#good freaking morning i have barely slept

[21stcenturyschizoidfag]

your honor its simply an incredible dynamic

[girlboylintjrwi]

Band-aids

Troy comes back home from his father after losing another game. Lint helps him patch him up, again.

HELLO LINTROLLER NATION. I AM BACK AT IT AGAIN. I think I could have done better but this will never get done if I keep messing around with it..... ALSO! i guess inspired by. another fic that i wrote. if you wanna read that one too

Troy enters the house. As he closes the door behind him, he already feels his eyes begin to water.

Lint hears him walk through the door, and he puts his pen and paper down to go greet him. He isn’t surprised to see Troy crying, he lost another game and it’s safe to assume that his father didn’t take it well. He usually doesn’t. “Happened again?” Lint says, just above a whisper. Troy nods his head.

There is silence in the room now.

Lint speaks up again, “Do you wanna just hang out for a little bit? We could watch TV. You don’t have to say anything.”

Lint doesn’t see any marks, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there or that nothing happened. Judging by the way Troy holds onto his arm, though, he has an idea of what may have occurred. The two of them walk over to the couch and take their seats. Neither of them really care what’s on the TV, they just care about being by each other’s sides.

Lint wraps an arm around Troy. This has happened enough times for Troy to know that Lint is safe, that he won’t hurt him, and now it is a comforting feeling for him. He likes being close to Lint. It’s nice to know what it feels like to be this close to someone and still feel safe.

“Hey, Lint, I’m not- I’m not, like, a disappointment, am I? My dad’s just lying, right broski?” Troy always asks this, and Lint always tells him that his dad is wrong. “No, Troy, you aren’t a disappointment. Not to me.”

Troy takes a deep breath. Tears still stream down his face, but it has slowed a bit since they sat down. “He hurt me. My arm.” “Do you want me to help?” “Not now. I like how we are now.” “Okay, man. I’ll patch you up later, then. We can stay here as long as you like.”

Lint wants to help more, but if Troy is okay for now, that’s all that matters. If Troy is happy, that’s enough for them.

Lint hates that he expects this kind of thing to happen after Troy loses games, and they wish that one day he won’t have to deal with this. What Lint didn’t expect, though, was for Troy to wrap his own arms around him and hug him. Lint’s not complaining, though. Troy lays his head against Lint’s shoulder. He looks tired. He can’t really blame him, it’s been a long day for both of them. It’s about time they got some rest.

–

Lint wakes up the next morning on the couch, and he immediately notices the absence of Troy in his arms and the sound of eggs scrambling in the kitchen.

Lint got up from the couch and moved slowly to the kitchen. They probably would’ve slept better if he’d gone to his own bed, but they don't mind waking up on the couch because he knows Troy was happy. Lint starts brewing a pot of coffee, and he barely even notices Troy in the corner of his eye cooking scrambled eggs. Surely the eggs are burnt by now, they should've been done a minute or two ago. But they notice something else, too. Troy is wearing a short-sleeve shirt, and now Lint sees exactly what Troy was talking about last night. He saw what was hurting and he wishes they could’ve helped him earlier.

“Does your arm hurt? I could help you make it feel better.” Lint asks. His voice is still groggy and crackly, since they’ve just woken up. “Nah broski, it hurts a little but I’m cookin’ up some freaking scrambled eggs, man!”

Lint glances into the pan. That is not edible. At least not anymore.  “Hey, man, I think the eggs are burnt. Like, I don’t think that’s edible.” “Oh.”

Lint turns the stove off and takes the pan full of extremely burnt scrambled eggs outside. The 2 of them did try to eat the scrambled eggs, but like Lint thought, they weren’t very appetizing.

Well, that’s three perfectly good eggs down the drain. Or should they say, into the yard for stray animals to get after. They place the now empty pan in the sink when they return, and he grabs an ice pack from the freezer. He always has ice packs ready now, just in case Troy gets hurt. And he gets hurt more often than not. Even though they’ve played this game a hundred times before, Troy still just looks back at Lint as if he’s a deer in headlights.

“Dude, I’m fine. It’s not even that bad, man, it’ll just go away soon…” Troy murmured. “But it does hurt, doesn’t it? And it could hurt a little less. Just hold that ice pack up to your arm, wherever it hurts most, man! I’ll be back in a second!” Lint replies before running off to grab a box of band-aids, which in this situation are completely useless, but it’ll make Troy feel a bit better and they know that.

Lint rushes back to where Troy stands in the kitchen holding a box of regular old band-aids. They would’ve grabbed the fun ones with cartoon characters on them, but they ran out of those from last time and this is all they’ve got now. Lint grabs a couple of band-aids and applies them to the bruises. This act isn’t going to help anything, really, but it’s the thought that counts. This says ‘I love you’ better than any words could, at least for Lint and Troy.

For them, they don’t need to say ‘I love you’ to each other, it’s already present in the way that they speak, in the way they look at each other, it’s present in every little thing that they do. Even if Troy is still unlearning, even if Lint is stuck waiting to hear those words for the rest of his life, that’s fine by them. Because everything is okay now. Troy is safe, Troy is smiling. Troy is happy, and so is Lint.

[msbigredmachine]

3 Sluts (Jey Uso)

Jey got two of 'em spittin’ on that thang… 😈💦

Pairings: OC/Jey Uso/OC

Word Count: 1732

Warnings: Threesome, SMUT

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

----------------

His dark eyes, hazy, fixated and awestruck; his long fingers quivering on the back of her head. The cool outdoor breeze wafted over his saliva-slick length each time it escaped the warmth of her mouth, making him tremble in his spot on the large patio chair overlooking the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. 

“Mmm…yeah, baby, I like that,” he drawled, watching her lather up her spit all over his dick with her hand before slipping him back in her mouth. He felt his body deflate with a low, satisfied moan as she sucked him thoroughly, her acrylic nails scraping his turgid flesh as they worked in rhythm with her warm, tight throat. Main Event Jey Uso was in Paradise, in more ways than one.

“Yeah, Lolo, get that shit.”

The familiar sultry voice prompted Jey to look up, his stare softening from lust to love as his girlfriend, Iris, stepped through the sliding glass door onto the balcony. Wearing a yellow string bikini that complimented her curvy body and brown skin, it was a welcome switch from the seriousness of the power suits she donned at work. Said power also allowed her to whisk him away to the sun-kissed climates of Mykonos on a private jet for some well deserved time off, much of which included getting tag-teamed by her and her best friend London. 

Dating the heiress to the world’s most valuable Black-owned sportswear company granted Jey access to many precipices of pleasure around the world, such as the palatial villa the threesome were currently isolated in and had christened multiple times in just a few days. To have two of the most beautiful women he’d ever laid eyes on sharing their bodies with him on the regular was quite the experience, and he loved every second. There was never a dull moment with his fun, sexy freak of a girlfriend and her even bigger freak of a BFF.

“Hey baby,” he greeted her, rolling the breakfast trolley aside so she could squeeze into the chair with him. “That sleep was good, huh? It’s nine in the morning.”

“Y’all can’t blame me, you two knocked me out last night. Woulda slept some more if it wasn’t for all the moaning and cheek-clapping going on here,” she laughed. “The windows are open so I can hear everything.” She bent low to accept his kiss and lovingly stroked London’s hair, smirking at the look of complete bliss on her man’s face thanks to her best friend's magic mouth. “She’s good, ain’t she,” she asked.

London released Jey’s dick long enough to brag, “I ain’t just ‘good’, I’m the fuckin’ best.”

“Um, not as good as me, bitch,” Iris argued playfully, eyeing up her boyfriend through her long lashes as she guided his face back to hers, “Ain’t that right, Daddy?”

Her kisses were the cure for every ailment, Jey had since acknowledged, as he kneaded the soft, plump flesh of her derriere, moaning into her mouth as her tongue circled sensually around his own. At the same time, he felt his dick slide deeper down London’s throat, short-circuiting his senses momentarily. Iris giggled and decided to ease up on him, grabbing the can of whipped cream off the breakfast tray. Spraying a generous amount on a large strawberry, she held it to Jey’s parted lips for a bite. He chewed on it with a happy sigh, making her smile. It was nice to see him relaxed after working so hard for so many months.

“Mmm. Tastes perfect, just like yo sexy ass,” Jey praised, gifting her with a smack on her backside, “Give some to Lo, too,” he instructed.

Iris did as she was told and fed London with another strawberry. London sat up and took a sloppy bite, causing the juice to trickle down her chin, past the column of her neck and between her bare breasts. “Ooh, I made a mess,” she commented, licking her lips and eyeing up her friend with a sly, dark expression. “Help me clean it off, babe?” 

Iris looked at her with a wicked grin of her own before leaning over Jey’s prone body to lap up the sweet juice that had dripped down London’s chin. London’s giggles dissolved to soft sighs as Iris used her tongue to trail the rivulet all the way down to the middle of her breasts, angling her head to suck her pierced nipple into her mouth. With a throaty moan, London sat up straighter, cupping Iris’s face and pulling her in for a kiss. 

Wrestling fans have described a lot of his recent content as cinema, but to Jey, nothing he did could ever compare to the visual of hot, sexy women making out. It was a joy to watch the two centers of his universe indulge in each other. London moaned with every sweep of Iris’ tongue inside her mouth, his sexy girlfriend taking charge like she always did. Her grip on London’s chin was firm as their kiss deepened and got hotter. When it became too hot and he started to feel left out, he cleared his throat to recapture their attention, prompting the women to pull apart and giggle mischievously.

“Looks like Daddy’s missing us,” London commented, coming closer to press her lips to Jey’s, sharing the joint tastes of strawberry and Iris with him.

“Mm-hmm, sure looks like it,” Iris agreed, sharing a devilish smile with her bestie. “Let’s give him what he wants, shall we?”

Iris slithered down her boyfriend’s muscled body and settled on top of London, the can of whipped cream in her grasp. With her breasts pressed against London’s back, Iris drizzled some whipped cream all over Jey’s dick, from tip to ballsac, smiling when he hissed from the cold dessert against the sensitivity of his groin. London was going in on his balls while Iris wrapped her tongue around his tip, teasing for a few seconds before taking him fully into her mouth. The pleasure was quick to engulf him, his body hypnotized by their warm, eager mouths. He glanced down at his two girls, one on top of the other, his lips parted slightly in a sex-induced stupor as they feasted on his dick and his balls; it was hard to determine whose ministrations he was enjoying more. 

“Fuck,” Jey whispered, his body melting into the chair, his hand coming up to cover his eyes. Head from London was already mind-blowing enough, but adding Iris to the mix took it to another stratosphere. His dick had not known peace since they touched down on the island, buried in either one of his girls’ holes at any given time. Not that he was complaining, not at all. He could feel the slow strokes of Iris’ thick lips up and down his dick, marking every inch of his sensitive flesh like a skilled painter working her canvas. Meanwhile, London’s mouth was stuffed with his balls. Her free hand was underneath him squeezing his ass, adding a new layer of sensation that caught him off guard enough to buck his hips suddenly, pushing himself deeper down Iris’ throat which made her gag a little. But she was never one to back down, coming up for air for a split second before going back in. His deep voice rattled with pleasure as he gripped her hair, desperately holding on as he lost himself to the wetness of their mouths and their sensual moans and sexy slobbers, intensifying the heat swirling in the pit of his stomach. 

Handing the reins back to London, Iris returned to Jey’s side and caressed his sun-bronzed abs, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head with a smirk. He was getting closer, she could tell from his breaths, shallow and erratic, his handsome features scrunched in painful pleasure as she and London drove him crazy. 

“Unnh, I’m gonna fuckin’ come,” he groaned, moaning again when Iris nibbled on the side of his neck, pinching with her teeth.

“Mmm, look at me, Daddy, you look so fuckin’ hot when you’re about to nut,” she cooed, rubbing her hand up and down his tattooed torso as he managed to drag his gaze to hers. She leaned down and kissed him, using her tongue to play with his mouth. In her peripheral vision she could see London cranking it up, her head and hands rotating ominously around his dick. “You gon’ fill up her mouth with your cum, baby? Cuz she’s been such a good little slut for you?”

Too wound up to speak, he could only nod his head with wide, glazed-over eyes. Iris plucked his nipple between her fingers, stimulating him some more. Her mouth and tongue loved all over the side of his throat, combining lethally with London’s deep throat soon plummeting him into that familiar abyss of ecstasy. 

“Oh shit, shit, fuck!” Jey moaned, tossing his head back as the powerful orgasm crashed over him. His entire body jerked as his cum shot out and landed all over London’s chin and lips. The more she jerked him off, the harder he came in mesmerizing waves. The creamy, white nut covered his dick and trickled down to his balls and London left none of it behind. He struggled to gather his breath, exhaling shakily as she ran her tongue all over his still-sensitive length with a sultry giggle.

“Good boy,” Iris praised him, running her fingers through his hair and kissing his temple.

“Damn, y’all gon’ be the death of me,” Jey breathed, staring up adoringly at his girlfriend.

After London had licked him clean, she stood up and adjusted her bikini top. “Well, this was fun. But it’s gettin’ kinda hot. Wanna take the party inside?”

“You sure?” Iris asked, as London rounded the chair, kissed both her lovers on the mouth and helped them to their feet. “Yeah. We not doin' nothin' all day,” she reminded them, “I don’t mind just layin’ back and watching y’all. You two are so hot together.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” said Jey, throwing one arm around Iris and the other around London as they stepped back inside the villa. “When we get upstairs, gimme ten minutes to recharge. Then Lolo, you gon sit’ on my face. Baby, you ridin’ my dick. I wanna see that ass bounce on me…”

THE END

----------------

Random drabble, I know, lol. Thoughts?

🏷️: @wrestlingprincess80 @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @tribalhoochie @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05  @harmshake @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster  @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @lizzyd1ish @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya @kia1996 @randomuser0711 @yourtribalqueen @caramelcleopatraa @katymae12344 @that-one-anxious-mango @yana3sworld @ajenae @truefant4sy @thetribalqueen @bhjszsdxc @paigereeder @christinabae @justazzi @maknaehyucks @mindairy @headoftheetable @truefant4sy @mscarter213 @ariiaeltheedonn @sageispunk @xbriexx

[greynatomy]

where were you in the morning? - five

alessia russo x reader

this was very rushed but it’s been in the drafts so decided to just give it an ending. last part of this mini series.

previous

———

You were getting some final touches done to your in ear packs when the stage manager knocked on the dressing room door.

“You’re on in five, Y/LN.”

You nod, turning to your manager.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Walking towards the stage, shaking out your nerves, you wait for your cue.

“Give it up for Y/N Y/LN!”

Walking towards the piano, you take your seat as the spotlight shines on you. Your fingers dance on the keys, playing the melody of the song.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire Jack frost nipping at your nose Yuletide carols being sung by a choir And folks dressed up like Eskimos

Your eyes are closed, not wanting to look at the audience, afraid that you’d mess up.

Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow Will find it hard to sleep tonight

They know that Santa’s on his way He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh And every mother's child is gonna spy To see if reindeers really know how to fly

Opening your eyes, you look out to the crowd, spotlights scanning the audience when your eyes lock onto a familiar figure — the girl who’s been stuck on your mind for months.

Unable to look away, you finished the rest of the song eyes locked in her. Hushed whispers spread amongst the audience as you have not looks away from where she stood. You thought she looked beautiful.

Finally able to look away, you sing the last notes. With a nod of acknowledgment to Alessia, you exit the stage, feeling as if you could breath again.

“You did good.” Alina gives you a pat on the back. Giving her a smile, you go back into the green room to remove the wires from your body. “Go out there and mingle for a bit.”

Nodding, you grab your phone and make your way out to the party. People come up to you left and right, some friends, many of them fans asking about new music and a possible tour, only giving them smiles and vague answers.

An hour of nonstop conversations and interactions, you feel a bit overwhelmed. Excusing yourself from the conversation about something you weren’t paying attention to, you make your way out to the balcony.

Not even a minute later, you hear the door open and close. Closing your eyes in annoyance, you turn to the person to tell them you just wanted a bit of peace when you see who walked through the door.

“Alessia.”

Her lips form a straight line, seeming to not know what to say.

“Y/N. Hi.”

You were frozen, not expecting her to follow you out here.

“Seem’s like we have a thing with meeting up outside of parties.”

“Seem’s like we do.” After a moment of silence and staring, Alessia places herself next to you. “I heard your new album.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, some of my friends are huge fans apparently and that’s how I made the connection that you were, well, you.” She shrugs.

“Yeah… I was hoping you’d have reached out when it came out.”

“Trust me, I wanted to. So bad. But I chickened out.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’ve never slept with someone after knowing them barely a couple of hours and freaked out. I didn’t know if you’d want to see me again, which is stupid now that I think about it cause you write this whole song about me basically ghosting you and how you wished I left my number.”

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. Don’t spiral. No need for that.” You pull her into you, wrapping her up in a tight embrace. “Maybe we should start over? Is that something you want?”

“Yes, please.”

“Well, then.” You step back, holding a hand out. “Hey, I was just over there and saw you and couldn’t help but introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. Name’s Alessia.” She takes your hand into her’s, shaking it gently.

“Say, Alessia, do you maybe, want to get out of here?”

“I’d love to.”

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 5

[chap four] | [all chapters here] | [chap six]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I'm very excited for this chapter because it's actually one of the scenes that inspired this whole fic! Before I knew what the hell I even wanted to write, I played this idea of a figure skating character over and over again in my head as I built up the story around it. I'm a little behind on writing the next chap, so it may be a slightly longer wait between this and the next one! Hope you all love it!

wc: 4.8k

taglist: @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220 @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

Chapter Five

You skated at least four times a week. You’ve done so since you were ten years old, when you decided that you wanted to take figure skating more seriously. Whether or not you had competitions, whether or not you were in the mood for it, you always stuck with your skating routine. With competition season coming up in November, you knew you’d have to start practicing more, putting in longer hours and more days in preparation.

Or maybe not. After all, competing was something that your mom enjoyed, that she encouraged wholeheartedly. Regardless of how much you enjoyed it, it didn’t exactly fit the teenage rebellion thing you had going on right now. Maybe you wouldn’t go to competition this year, maybe you’d skip out on your final season out of pure spite - now that would be cruel. Although a part of you hurt at that idea - because you really did love skating - you reasoned that it was something you had to consider.

Fridays were always very long days for you. While your peers would be set free to roam following the 3pm school bell, you had more obligations for the day. Once you left school, you crammed in as much homework as you could before hitting the ice rink by 4:30 at the latest to get your own practice in. Once that was done, you led a youth skating practice until 7pm, then you tried to squeeze in some more skating time before the hockey team took to the ice at 7:15. After arriving home at 8 o’clock or later, you crammed more homework so you wouldn’t have to deal with it over the weekend, and then by that point you’d be too worn out for anything else, so you generally slept late into the next morning.

This had been your routine for over a year now, ever since your own couch suggested that you needed to get more extracurriculars under your belt for your college applications. She had insisted that your resume would look far more impressive if you showed that you had teaching experience and “leadership potential,” an idea that really appealed to your parents, who were determined for you to get into a good school, maybe even on a figure skating scholarship. So, you ended up taking over the Friday night children’s lessons whether you wanted to or not.

You honestly despised it. You led children age 5 to 7, and they were a constant pain in the ass. You couldn’t raise your voice without one of them crying, you couldn’t leave them to their own devices without someone inevitably ending up hurt. Yet, you stuck with it because you were told to, because the adults around you insisted that you needed to. You couldn’t stand the way your coach would insist that this would help develop your skills, you couldn’t stand how your mother insisted “you’ll look back on this so fondly when you’re older.” These damned kids skating lessons were something else you’d probably drop soon, because you barely tolerated them as is.

While everyone else was at the football game, while Eddie was probably off playing his stupid fantasy game or doing something equally as nerdy, you were here at the ice rink, shouting instructions at children while parents and hockey players watched. Some of the parents had made it clear before that they weren’t fond of your impatient and mean teaching methods, but your coach always seemed to talk them out of pulling their kids from your group. She always argued something about you being the best skating in the county, but you weren’t sure how true that was - sure, you had your fair share of medals, but even with your ego you were pretty sure there were better skaters at your level.

“Come on, slackers, we’ve got five minutes left!” You taunted your group of 11 kids as they skated around the perimeter of the rink as a cool down. You zipped ahead of them, leading the charge as you skated backwards to keep an eye on them.

Many of the older kids had grown used to your abrasive coaching, but you could see that many of the newbies were still frightened of you, your loud voice, and your cold eyes. As a means of excusing your poor teaching style, you always said that skating was a tough sport and they needed to toughen up if they wanted to be any good at it. For how pretty and elegant figure skating could be, you knew from experience that competitive skating could be harsh, so you figured you were helping these kids prepare for it.

Because the Hawkins High hockey team had the rink after your group every Friday, many of them were already sitting on the sidelines, getting their gear ready or watching you work. The cocky part of you enjoyed the attention, but hockey players were stupid, so you rarely gave any of them a chance whenever they tried talking to you. Nonetheless, when you were in a good mood, you enjoyed putting on a bit of a show for them, shooting flirty glances their way or occasionally calling out remarks to them between instructing the kids. Tonight, you were paying them little mind, but that didn’t stop you from looking their way every now and again.

As you led the kids back to the center of the ice to wrap up the lesson, a lot of their parents were also waiting in the bleachers or out in the lobby. While you skated back and forth in front of your little army of children, going over some instructions for their next practice with your coach on Monday, your eyes roamed the bleachers. You gave a wicked grin to the hockey players that watched you, meanwhile you took in the parents with very little regards. It was as you looked over the clusters of parents that you saw a familiar face sitting at the penalty bench, and unintentionally you let your toe pick drag on the ice, which very nearly caused you to trip.

God damn Eddie Munson.

As you glared in his direction, hoping your momentary lack of balance didn’t make you look too stupid, you dismissed the kids before gliding towards the dasher board. Eddie, grinning like an asshole, stood up to meet you as children began to exit the ice. You braced yourself on the rail of the board, eyes narrowed at Eddie who appeared far too amused for your liking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask in lieu of a greeting. Eddie briefly glances over at the kids leaving the ice.

“You’re incredible with children.” He mocked, smiling far too wide for your liking; you narrowed your eyes while wondering just how long he’d been here, “Figured I might find you here.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” You respond coldly, gaze briefly looking in the direction of the hockey team to find a couple of them watching your interaction. 

“You did say we needed to make plans, figure out how this was going to work,” Eddie started, taking in your red cheeks and slightly damp forehead that developed over the course of your skating lessons.

“I also said we’d talk about it next week.” You glowered a little, not worried if any of the hockey players saw it - maybe they’d simply mistake it for a lovers quarrel. Eddie grinned, holding his arms up as if he were a presenter on some dumb show.

“No time like the present, right?” Your unamused face gave him all the answer he needed, and his expression fell a little in annoyance, “And here I hoped I was being a good fake boyfriend by visiting you at the rink.”

“You’re being too good a fake boyfriend,” You jab.

Now that all the kids were off the ice, you slid towards the open gate; Eddie kept pace with you on the other side of the dasher board, meeting you at the gate and offering you his hand in assistance. You looked between his face and his outstretched hand with a glare, but eventually accepted his help, stepping over the barrier and onto the slightly cushy floor on the other side.

“I told you not tonight because I’m busy.” You walk over to the gym bag you left sitting on the nearest bleachers. As you sat beside it, Eddie shrugged with a carelessness that seemed almost false.

“Then I’ll go.” He answered simply as you removed your skates, “Just thought it might not be a bad idea to get to know you a little better. It’s not gonna be easy to fake date someone who you know nothing about.”

You shot him a harsh look while putting skate guards over your blades. You didn’t want to admit that he was right, but he had a good point, especially since you had already discussed it before. You sighed heavily through your nose, your cold eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Can’t it wait? I’ve had a long day.”

Eddie studied you for a moment, leaning back against the dasher board before looking around the ice rink. You quickly put some worn sneakers on your feet and stood, picking your bag and turning away with the intention to leave. But Eddie’s gentle grip on your wrist stopped you from going anywhere, causing you to look between his hand and his face. As you two held eye contact, you realized that Eddie could be just as stubborn as you when he wanted; damn, was this going to be difficult.

“Let me buy you dinner - I’m sure you’re starving,” Eddie started, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if he thought your attitude was because you were hangry. You chewed your lower lip, eyes staring critically at Eddie for another few moments before you let out a defeated sigh, allowing your shoulders to relax a little. Considering that it had been nearly eight hours since your lunch break, it might now be a bad idea to eat something.

Eddie’s eyes softened at your silent resignation, the corner of his mouth pulling up. He finally released your wrist, nodding his head in the direction of the lobby, “Come on, you pick.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Your pick ended up being a 24-hour diner downtown. Eddie showed clear confusion when you mentioned it, so you explained that - for whatever reason - the diner had become something of a tradition, where students congregated post-Friday night football into the wee hours of the night. You’d joined that crowd a number of times in the past, but had no more interest in it - what you were interested in was having people see you and Eddie out together.

You knew it would still be at least an hour before the football crowd arrived, but that wasn’t such a bad thing - it gave you and Eddie a bit of time to actually become acquainted, to learn more about each other beyond “ice princess” and “the freak.”

You studied Eddie while sipping on a chocolate shake, waiting for your food to arrive. He stared back at you unabashedly, and you figured you could be locked into this staring contest until the end of time given how stubborn you both could be. As if Eddie knew what you were thinking, he smirked, finally caving as he looked away from you.

“Not to sound cliche,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, almost as if he were nervous, but you assumed that couldn’t be true, “but… tell me about yourself?”

You smiled at how dumb the question was - that was so cliche. It was as good a starting place as any you figured, but that didn’t make it sound any less silly and forced. You leaned back in your seat, still holding tight to your milkshake as if it were a lifeline.

Putting on your best Miss America voice, you replied, “Well, I’m freshly 18 from Hawkins, Indiana. I love long walks on the beach, snuggling up with a good book, and I hope one day we’ll have world peace.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, although you could tell he was fighting back a grin, “You’re making this very challenging considering that it was your idea.”

You shrug, taking a big gulp of the chocolate shake, “I guess I’m just a challenging person.”

“You guess?” Eddie laughed mockingly at that, “You’re the most challenging I’ve met. So, how about you try relaxing a little or else no one’s going to buy that we’re together.”

You made a face at the near-insult, finally putting down your drink. You leaned your elbows on the table, taking in Eddie’s face for a moment, stubbornly resisting the urge to say anything. Again, he had a good point, not that you wanted to tell him that. Eddie appeared to have an idea as he mirrored your pose.

“Okay, we’ll go back and forth, a question for a question; how’s that?” You nodded, “Right. First question: Why me?”

Your brows furrowed a little in thought, pinning down a good answer while trying to recall what you’ve already told him, “Haven’t I already explained that?”

“Kind of.” Eddie rolled his hand in a motion that basically said “but go on.”

You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment while thinking, “Your reputation. People don’t know you, but your reputation is in the absolute gutter. No better person to turn to than the guy who everyone in the school already hates.”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the answer, “Okay, your turn.”

You grinned a little, a question already on your lips, “Why’d you agree to it?”

It was something you’d speculated briefly throughout the week, as you thought that your trade offer might not have been a compelling enough reason for Eddie to agree to this stupid plan. And now you could finally get the answer you were looking for.

Eddie silently stared at you in consideration, and again it almost felt like he was able to read your thoughts somehow. Finally, he answered, “Curiosity.”

You raised a brow in question, to which he once more scratched the back of his neck - maybe that actually was a nervous habit, so you took note of it.

“We both know this idea is kinda crazy,” Eddie started, mulling over his thoughts before continuing, “But I wanted to see how it plays out. See if we can actually trick people into believing it. And I wanted to see if you were as awful as I thought you were.”

You balked instantly, an amused huff escaping your mouth, “‘Awful?’ Jesus, you keep acting like I’m the devil or something.”

Eddie made a face while shrugging, not disagreeing with you, “You thought the same about me. So, let’s call it square.”

Food was finally brought to your table, and you had to resist the urge to attack the greasy burger set in front of you; you didn’t need Eddie to see you act like a ravenous gremlin over some food, even if it had been over eight hours since you’d eaten anything. But you nonetheless dug in, albeit with far more control than your empty, growling stomach would have liked.

“Your turn.” You say around a bite of food, causing Eddie to smile in amusement and the unladylike action.

“Hmm…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing you as he contemplated his next question. Self consciously, you wiped at the corner of your mouth just to make sure there wasn’t any stray ketchup or grease sitting there, “Why ice skating?”

“Because it’s better than cheerleading.” You smiled at your own joke before giving a slightly better answer, “I always thought it was pretty. Nothing else to it, unfortunately; no deep story and significance to it.”

“Fine.” Eddie responded almost as if he was disappointed by the mundane answer.

“Why Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Your questions can’t keep being off-shoots of mine.” Eddie laughed a little, and despite yourself it caused you to smile smally as well.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” He responded while pointing at himself, “I get to come up with some of the rules now, remember?”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes with a degree of fondness, which you immediately found strange, so you tried to wipe the look from your face. Nope, you weren’t fond of Eddie Munson, not at all.

You went back to your food, hoping Eddie didn’t catch the amused look on your face. You spoke around another bite of food, “Do you have siblings?”

“None that I know of.” He replied around his own mouthful of food, “But I wouldn’t exactly be surprised if there were any out there.”

You cocked your head a little at the response; it wasn’t so much shocking or sad, rather it was unexpected and different from your own life. You made a mental note to learn more about Eddie’s family, if not tonight then at a later point.

“What’s your plan after graduation?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then paused - what was your plan now that you were trying to make your own decisions? You hadn’t even considered it. Did you still want to go to college? Where? Studying what? You suddenly realized that you had no true plan for yourself, only the one outlined by your parents, and that realization made you nervous.

“Honest answer: not a fucking clue.” Eddie looked taken aback by the response, so you continued, “My plan before was getting into a good school on a skating scholarship, and studying something completely irrelevant. My parents expect my skating to carry me through life until some good, rich man sweeps me off my feet.”

“But that’s not your plan anymore?”

“That’s another question.” You give him a teasing grin, causing Eddie to roll his eyes, “First, answer me this: If you weren’t stuck in Hawkins, where would you go?”

Eddie grinned with an unexpected eagerness, “LA. The music scene there is insane, and I’d happily sleep on the streets if it meant I had a shot at making my own music.”

Your eyes softened ever so slightly at the unexpected, genuine response - admittedly, you didn’t peg Eddie as the type to have any real goals. But music? That was interesting to you since you weren’t even aware that he played any instruments. You wondered if he was actually any good at it, or if it was some foolish aspiration.

“Now, what’s your plan?” Eddie repeated, smirking at the look on your face - this was one of the few times you didn’t look like a total bitch, so he appreciated it. In fact, you looked relaxed and, dare he say, content; that was certainly unexpected from you.

When you shrugged, he shook his head, leaning forward again, “No, you come up with a plan right now. Don’t base it off what your parents want or what you think sounds like the right answer. What do you want to do with your life once we’re done with this shit hole?”

You contemplated, a mild concern washing over you as you stared at Eddie - what the hell did you want? And why did you suddenly feel so vulnerable because of the question. You had to rip your gaze away from Eddie’s, hardening your expression as you tried to think up an answer that felt right.

“I… I like art, I love clothes,” You started dumbly, glancing at Eddie through your lashes, expecting him to make a face at the lame answer, “I don’t know shit about them in a technical way, but it might be fun for college. Take painting or sewing classes during the day, skate until my feet hurt at night, maybe… I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, LA… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.”

“Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to LA together after graduation, huh?” Eddie smiled widely, and you allowed an amused look to cross your face.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You returned to your food as you tried to come up with a good question for Eddie. An intriguing one came to you, so you asked before you could second guess it, “How do you expect your fake girlfriend to act?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed; it didn’t appear to be due to him misunderstanding the question, but rather that it was unexpected; he even looked maybe hesitant to answer it. Again, he scratched his neck.

You lean forward a little, looking at him seriously, “Give me a good answer, okay? We’re just gonna keep going in circles otherwise.”

Eddie shrugged, “Maybe I don’t have any expectations.”

“Then come up with some.” You immediately counter, prodding the same way he had about your plans for the future. Eddie stared at you with scrutiny while chewing the inside of his lip, as if he didn’t want to come up with a response to the question. You waited, making a mock sweet face at him while you chowed down on your fries. You were going to demand an answer until he gave you one.

“Well, going off the rules you already established,” He made a bit of a face as if to mock the oh-so-sacred fake dating rules, “Aside from playing nice in front of others, it might be helpful if you were less stubborn; you’re like a damn bull.”

You gave him a joshing smile right back, “Fair. Is that it?”

Eddie quickly shook his finger; now it was just a back-and-forth game of you mocking one another, “Ah, that’s another question.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You rolled your eyes with a short laugh, “That is not another question.”

Eddie gave a fake look of apology, shrugging again, “Unfortunately, it is.”

You threw a french fry at him, which lamely hit his chest then landed in his lap. As he laughed and picked it up, you found yourself smiling fondly again, and you quickly tried to shake off the expression.

At that moment, the bell above the front door chimed, and immediately the diner was filled with rambunctious conversation. Your heart jumped a little, realizing the time, and you briefly glanced in the direction of the door; the group that had entered wasn’t your friends, although you recognized them. You turned your attention back to Eddie, who gave you another grin.

“Showtime.” He stated simply, and then a thought appeared to cross his mind, “You want another expectation? Tell me if anything I do is too much, but otherwise let me do what I do - you don’t need to be in control all the time.”

“Don’t I, though?” You countered haughtily, which was met by a flash of seriousness across Eddie’s eyes.

“No, you don’t. I know what I’m doing, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, not entirely convinced that he did, in fact, know what he was doing. Considering that you’d never seen him even interact with a girl before, you weren’t sure if he knew the first thing about dating or romance. But despite your doubts, you relented, relaxing your shoulders as if to show you were relinquishing some control.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes nonetheless, forever obstinate as you mocked, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, but otherwise I’ll let you do what you do.”

“Was that so hard?” Eddie replied with a condescending smirk. You sneered before relaxing your face, knowing your friends were bound to appear any minute now.

As you stole another glance at the door, you suddenly felt Eddie’s fingers graze the back of your hand, drawing your attention back to him with a confused little knot between your brows. He held your gaze as if to make a point, as if to remind you of the conversation you just had, that he knew what he was doing. His hand simply sat on top of yours, your fingers ever so slightly lacing together - he raised his brows as if to dare you to pull away from him. You had to resist the urge to narrow your eyes at him and snatch your hand away, and in turn Eddie gave you a cocky grin before continuing to eat with his free hand.

Eventually, your friends appeared, although they didn’t notice you at first. They were all so full of energy as they excitedly spoke to each other, descending upon a few tables in the middle of the diner and pushing them together. The staff were used to it, although you knew from experience that they nonetheless hated it; you guys were always disruptive to the other patrons, and you figured that was never going to change.

You tried your best not to stare, but your eyes kept trailing over, kept studying the excited faces of the people you considered friends only a couple of weeks ago. After your eyes had drifted over for the umpteenth time, you felt Eddie lightly squeeze your fingers, causing you to unintentionally sneer at how strange it was to maintain this physical contact with him.

“Stop staring,” He instructed when you looked back at him.

With a quarrelsome look in your eyes, you did as Eddie told you, returning your attention to the half eaten burger on your plate, “Talk to me about something, then.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t care, just talk so I can pretend to be interested.”

Eddie looked mildly put off by that, and you realized that you’d taken your customary mean tone with him. You couldn’t seem to help yourself with your former cohorts nearby, it was as if their energy was rubbing off on you.

“You know what I’m going to talk about,” Eddie taunted with a wide grin.

Your face fell in realization, “Please not Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I’m gonna do it.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“So, there’s this character, Kas, who has really interesting lore--”

You threw another fry at Eddie, and at that same moment, you felt someone come up alongside your table. You both look up to see Amelia there with a critical look on her face; your gaze drifts past her, noticing that a few people from her table were also looking at you and Eddie.

You met Amelia’s eyes again, giving her a wide, false smile, “Small world.”

Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, “Yeah, I’m sure you just completely forgot we always come here after games.”

“Maybe she just wanted to see her dear friends.” Eddie chimed in mockingly, once again surprising you with his willingness to instigate confrontation. You laughed as a dumbfounded look crossed Amelia’s at his remark.

“I don’t know what the hell she sees in you.” Amelia snarked with a glare before turning her gaze back to you, “And I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but it’s already getting pretty old.”

You shrug with exaggerated nonchalance, “Sometimes a girl just needs a bit of a change every now and then, you know?”

Amelia didn’t look convinced as she rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh, “Yeah, well, this ‘change’ doesn’t suit you at all.”

Before you could respond with another quip, Amelia spun on her heel and briskly returned to her table. By that point, everyone there was watching and awaiting Amelia’s return, quickly huddling together to whisper conspiratorially once she sat down.

You and Eddie shared an amused glance; he went back to poking at his food as your gaze trailed back to Amelia and company. You happened to lock eyes with Duncan, who stared at you with harsh scrutiny, as if he wasn’t buying this thing between you and Eddie in the slightest. You gave Duncan a mocking while, starting to wave before flipping him off, causing Eddie to snort and choke on his food. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he hit his chest a couple of times, trying to clear his throat. The sound of such a genuine laugh escaping you was absolutely foreign to Eddie, but he decided it was a sound he enjoyed, even if it was at his expense; he made a mental note that he had to find ways to make you laugh more that didn’t involve him choking.

“You could’ve killed me.” Eddie croaked before laughing himself, his smile wide.

“You’re fine.” You teased, squeezing his fingers while giving him a false pout of sympathy, “You big baby.”

Eddie rolled his eyes in amusement, digging his wallet out while finally relinquishing the grip he had on your hand, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He tossed money onto the table and stood, offering his hand to you again. You quickly snagged one last fry before accepting Eddie’s hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He once again laced his fingers with yours as he led you through the crowded diner, and you had to fight back the desire to cringe in confusion at it. The both of you eyed the crowd of Hawkins High’s elite as they watched you back critically.

Once outside the diner, Eddie paused in front of one of the large windows and pulled a ridiculous face at the kids still watching you; he quickly tugged your arm, leading you back towards the van as you laughed again at his antics.

[thrillered]

"You Know I Mountain Dew It For Ya" | Spencer Agnew x Reader | Pt. 9

Pt. 9: Fallout

-

-

I'm so sorry o7

-

-

You woke up early, the birds were just beginning their morning songs. For a moment it was bliss, you were secure in Spencer’s arms as he curled around you, leaving a strong arm around your waist. 

You often woke up cuddling with Spencer when you or he slept over, your bodies like magnets, naturally finding their way together in the night. This time it was different. Everything was different. 

Your mind reeled with memories of the previous night. It all felt very dreamy but if you focused hard enough you could still feel the pressure of his lips on yours. Oh my god he kissed me, You thought to yourself. And I kissed him back. 

Warming at the thought you untangled yourself from Spencer’s embrace, sliding out of bed to grab your phone and quietly slip into the bathroom. You locked the door behind you, leaning against the counter you looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a blushing mess. The flashes of last night consumed you. How were you going to focus at all today? You turned the faucet on, cupping the cool water in your hands before bringing it up to your face. 

All at once the bliss you felt remembering the previous night turned to dread. Everything was going to change: your personal relationship with Spencer, your professional relationship… god forbid you ever go in public together because the fans are relentless. Your thoughts began to spiral. You had wanted Spencer for so long but now that you might have him (pending his morning confession you requested) it was too much. 

You couldn’t think in his apartment, everything smelled like him and he was fast asleep in the other room. Needing to think clearly you did what anyone would do you went back to bed you left. 

Exiting the bathroom you took one last look at Spencer’s sleeping form. The early morning light casting a warm glow on his features. You grabbed your bag and as quietly as possible you left, locking his apartment behind you. 

You all but ran to your car, needing to get away. Everything felt too real. You drove home, taking a slightly longer route than usual, allowing the purr of your engine and the morning breeze to calm you. 

When you arrived home you knew you only had like two hours before Spencer would wake up and realize you were gone. You stripped your clothes off, overwhelmed at how strongly they smelled like Spencer. Hopping in the shower you let the cool water run over you. 

You continued your morning rituals, your anxiety spiking as the time ticked closer to having to talk to Spencer. Unsure of what to do you texted Amanda, knowing she would be awake already. You asked her to talk and soon got on a facetime call with her. 

You had barely answered the phone before Amanda could tell something was wrong, “Oh honey, what’s going on?” 

“I’m not sure what to do,” You began, “I was at Spencer’s last night and we got high and we kissed and he told me he loved me.”

“Well that’s good isn’t it?” Amanda questioned, having clocked your feelings forever ago. 

“No. I mean yes? I don’t know?” You sighed, “I’ve wanted this for so long but now things are gonna change and that’s so scary and what if this doesn’t work with the company or the fans hate it or-” 

“Take a breath Y/N”  Amanda cut you off, seeing you spiraling, “Let’s break this down, okay? First, the company is fine, Shayne and Court are literally married, no one will be upset, in fact I think there would be some bets needing to be cashed in.” She laughed, “Second: The fans don’t have to know anything, they are not entitled to your personal life so you don’t even need to think about that. But third: where is Spencer now?” 

You were grateful for Amanda, she was always so comforting and wise. You already felt calmer. “He’s at his house, I kinda left at like 5 am because I got scared and started to spiral…”

“Oh honey no.” Amanda sighed, “He’s gonna wake up without you there and freak out, he's so protective of you. You need to at least text him and tell him you left so when he wakes up he doesn’t lose his shit.” 

You knew Amanda was right. But you were terrified to actually talk to Spencer about everything.

–

The sun was beaming through sheer curtains, creating a serene moment in Spencer’s bedroom. Until his alarm started blaring. He haphazardly searched for his phone, turning off the alarm before rolling over to pull you close to him again, but his arms found nothing. He opened his eyes to find an empty bed. He felt around, not even finding a warm spot where you had been, it was like you were never there. 

Was last night a dream? Did Spencer imagine that it all happened? No, he couldn’t have, he could still feel your fingers parting through his hair. He got out of bed, walking to the bathroom, assuming you were just in there getting ready.. 

The light was off and he opened the door, his anxiety spiking as he found no one. He all but ran to the kitchen, searching for your stuff only to find nothing. Your bag, shoes, and keys were all gone. You had left. 

You had asked him to tell you everything in the morning and now that the sun had risen you were gone. Something must have happened to you. He walked back into his room and grabbed his phone, eager to call you and check in. As he picked up his phone he saw your contact “Y/N!!! :)))” with a message from 5:45 am, Hey sorry, my landlord needed me for something, see you at work. 

For a moment he was worried that he pushed himself on you. But you kissed him back, you told him you loved him too. 

All at once Spencer was pissed. He had poured his heart out and not only did you not fully believe him but you LEFT. He knew your landlord didn’t need you, he could read you like a book and you were lying, he just didn’t know why. His heart shattered, why would you do this? 

He threw his phone on the bed, exasperated by the morning's events. Spencer had planned to wake up next to you and have the first thing you hear be his undying love for you. He was ready to become more. He didn’t know how he would even look at you today.

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Chapter 3

CW: angst, reader is a loner, reader works her ass off every day at the lab, fluff, neteyam being cute towards reader (even tho it still has weird vibes lol), mad jealous neteyam, TRIGGER WARNING for depression symptoms (such as being moody n having less appetite than the usual), stalking, obsessive and toxic behavior, also TRIGGER WARNING for reader mentioning the word “suicidal” in an internal monologue (she IS NOT actually suicidal, she just feels really sad and mentions the word. if u read it, you'll know what I mean)

Not proofread. I'll do it as soon as I can ♡ I hope it's a good chapter 🥲 & thank u to everyone who's reading this fanfic, who left a comment in the last chapter and, of course, to everyone who asked to be in the taglist I LOVE Y'ALL 😘💕💕💕

Chapter 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mother looking at me

Tell me, what do you see?

Yes, I've lost my mind

(...)

Will I ever be free?

Have I crossed the line?

All the things she said, running through my head

All the things she said (t.A.T.u)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You woke up feeling like crap that morning.

Your last shift had been so demanding. You had to cook just so much food that you started to wonder if there was anything left in the pantry. You had gone into that room just so many times yesterday to get ingredients and kitchen utensils, your legs felt heavy and sore now, as you stretched them in your small bed.

There were just too many people to eat in that damn laboratory.

Meanwhile you, the cook, barely had any time left to eat. There was always just so much work to do. So many dishes to wash, so many vegetables and meat to cut, bread to prepare from scratch... Your head hurt just thinking about it.

You felt so stressed out that you preferred to unwind a little instead of eating, sometimes. You would find a quiet place, sit somewhere, put your headphones on and press play on one of your many curated playlists or in one of your favorite songs. Listening to music seemed to work like a medicine to your wounds and, going to the cafeteria and having to socialize, to have people all around you felt too much, so, you just tried to avoid it. You even started to lose a little weight because of it. Nothing too much, though. You were only slightly thinner than you used to be. But in the back of your head, there was always a voice saying "Please, take better care of yourself...". Despite knowing that voice was right, you were too tired and apathetic to care.

Ever since you started to Dreamwalk, it was like your whole world had changed. That old life you led did not seem to be enough anymore. It never was, in the first place. It could never compare to the heightened senses you had when you were in your Avatar, helping you smell and hear everything better.

The first time you spent a whole afternoon running alone through the Pandoran forest next to Hell's Gate, you felt alive like you had not felt in years.

But nothing gold can ever stay. Way sooner than you expected, you had to be awakened from that magical dream. Everytime you came out of the technological machine you had to lay inside of to be able to drive your Avatar, you thought "Damn! Why wasn't I born a na'vi? They're so freaking lucky to have such an incredibly beautiful Planet to call their own. If only Earth was still as beautiful as it used to be..."

When you were not in one of your free days, you would always work until you felt exhausted and fed up with everything. It was not a walk in the park to be a cook. Even though you loved cooking since you were a teenager, when you used to always mix different ingredients and spices and create new recipes, this profession forced you to spend most of your time standing up and to have little time to sit and rest your poor fatigued legs. In some days, all you wanted was to sleep for 12 hours straight. And God knows you were capable of actually doing that.

Not a long time ago, you slept so much that, when you eventually woke up, it was 2 pm and you almost got fired from the lab when you finally showed up at the kitchen you were supposed to be in since 6 am.

You promised yourself you would never do that again. You just could not afford to lose that job. And you wanted to cry just thinking about not being able to Dreamwalk anymore. Exploring Pandora was the peak of your life, currently. It was when you felt high as a kite. As funny as it sounded, it was true. You felt euphoria run through your body everytime you got to have blue skin and be over 8 feet tall.

You liked to cook and was good at it, but, you were a smart, intelligent girl who knew much more than people thought you did. Unfortunately, you could not manage to get a higher position at the lab. Your forte was not sciencey stuff. It was subjects like Human History, Languages, Philosophy... At best, you got to use your language learning skills to learn basic na'vi fast and was able to get an Avatar from the lab. At least that was a good thing that your tiring job provided you. God knows that privilege was one of the few things keeping you alive. You goddamn hated you life, your job, everything... All your days seemed to be the same. Same chores, same annoying people... Most scientists did not try to hide that they did not see you as an equal. Even though they were always really polite to you, they would not let you in in their little groups, in their upbeat conversations through the laboratory corridors. You could count in one hand how many of them used to talk to you with genuine interest in hearing what you had to say.

You sat every day next to the less valued lab employees: janitors, cleaning ladies, other cooks just like you and so on. Your race had never been good at realizing the worth that these hardworking people had, anyway. Why would they do it now? You thought it to be so sad...

Those employees were nice regular people. Even thought some of them were idiots and treated you badly, there are people who behave like that anywhere. You were thankful that most of them were polite to you and treated you well enough. You also had a close friendship with one of the female employees, a cute, humble and really kind girl called Crystal. But she was your only actual friend. You did not remember the last time you had made an actual effort to make a friend, to be nice to someone in hopes you could get to know them better and they could become a part of your life. You had to admit you had been really grumpy lately.

You could easily blame such moodiness on your lack of will to keep living that life you currently had. It’s not that you were suicidal, it's just that you wished you could live a better life.

There was also Derek, the tall, cute boy you would make out with every now and then. You did not have a proper name for your relationship with him. He was always lovely towards you and you two would have really interesting conversations together and sneak around to kiss each other and do other types of heated stuff (though you never had sex with him) anytime you both felt like it. But it did not happen that often, anyway. You did not put much thought into it, to be honest. Derek was just a friend you would fool around with. You could not be farther from being in love with him or anything of sorts.

After another tiresome day, you walked fast towards your room. All you could think about was how nice and cozy your bed would feel when you would lay your body on it. Only five minutes after you finally laid down, you fell asleep. Slumber had been bugging you all day. Lately, it had always been like that.

They say you have to be careful what you wish for. That your words and thoughts have power over what happens to you. And you learned it the hard way.

In one of your infamous busy but boring afternoons, something unexpected happened to you.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a na'vi young man appeared outside of your glass window and tapped slightly on it. You almost choked on your own saliva when you saw that huge, blue creature staring at you with wide yellow eyes. A scream got stuck right in the middle of your throat, since you got so startled you could not get your vocal chords to obey the command your brain was sending them. What the hell was that na'vi doing in front of the laboratory? They did not use to come to Hell's Gate. And why was he looking at you through the kitchen window?

The na'vi boy just would not stop staring at you. His gaze was so intense it made you feel unbelievably uncomfortable. Suddenly, he pointed to the left. The big, ample door that led to the open area in front of the room you worked in was right at the same direction his four fingered hand was pointing to. You realized he was signaling to you that he wanted to see you outside of the lab.

You started to say, in your own mind: "What kind of weird situation is this?"

"Please?" You heard the alien plead in fluent English (he only had a typical na'vi accent), his voice coming through the narrow gap that existed between the glass and the window frame. His eyes reminded you of the eyes of a small kitten asking for food.

You got surprised by the fact that he was able to speak English. You wondered why he had learned it and who taught him the language.

You tried to reach for the door to try and inform someone that there was a na'vi around and ask if anybody knew who he was when you heard the alien say:

"Don't go, please! I just want to talk to you! I'm not gonna hurt you."

Your back was turned to him. When you turned around, he was smiling.

"It's incredible how you're even prettier up close."

"I'm sorry?!" You answered

"Oh, forgive me. My name is Neteyam. Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan. It's really nice to meet you." He was still smiling.

That name was familiar, Neteyam te Suli... Oh, of course! Neteyam was the son of the Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, Jake Sully. He was very famous between the na'vi and the humans.

Neteyam Suli was one of the most feared na'vi warriors out there. A great archer and very skilled with the knives the Omatikayas made themselves, he fought fearlessly against the recoms, including Colonel Miles Quaritch, an old enemy of his father. Quaritch used to lead the RDA soldiers when he was human, before being "revived" and given an Avatar body. He died in battle against the na'vi. But that did not mean that there was finally peace between humans and the na'vi race.

But why in hell was Neteyam Suli trying to talk to you? It is not like the na'vi liked the humans. On the contrary, they despised your race.

"Uhmm... okay. Nice to meet you..." You tried to be polite and peaceful towards the na'vi boy, like you were advised to be by your teachers, back when you were studying and training to get your Avatar "But I'm sorry, what did you say? That I'm prettier up close?" Your brows were furrowing, your face full of confusion. Despite all, you were calmer now that you knew you could communicate with him in English. Your na'vi was not the best out there.

"Yes." Neteyam's big amber eyes shone when he looked at your face. You were beyond dazed. "I've seen you before. Many times actually. But only from far away. It doesn't compare to seeing you right next to me." His voice had a weird warm feeling in it, like he was already acquainted to you. But how could it be? You did not even know who he was before he revealed his identity to you.

"When did you see me...?" Your mouth was slightly opened, so bewildered you felt

"Don't you wanna come outside so we can talk better?" He said, seeming excited.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm good, thanks." Neteyam looked sad after you declined his offer.

"Why not? I told you, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." He smiled faintly. You could tell he was hurt by your blunt answer.

It pained you to act like that towards him. You admired the na'vi so much. Damn, you even would choose to be born a na'vi if you somehow could go back in time, before you were inside your mother's womb and you could talk to Eywa herself. But how were you gonna trust him? There were some na'vi out there, his mother, for example, that hated humans with such a boiling passion. What if he took after his mother? You would be in trouble if he tried to kill you. Even though the na'vi were a peaceful by nature race, everyone has a limit, so, you had to be careful when interacting with them. You learned about all the genocide your kind had committed against his kind while simultaneously destroying his Planet slowly, in a cruel, despicable way. You honestly understood the contempt the na'vi felt when it came to humans.

You looked at Neteyam with honesty in your eyes and said:

"Please don't take this the wrong way but I can't really trust you. I know you told me you're not gonna hurt me, but, I'm still human. How can I know you trust me, to begin with?"

"I trust you because you're different. You're nothing like the others from your kind. You're more like my people. And I love that about you." Neteyam said, smiling at you.

"Can you please just tell me how do you know me? Because I've never seen you before. I've only heard about you because you're the Olo'eyktan's eldest son and Olo'eyktan to be. But you talk to me like you somehow... know me. I'm really confused, Neteyam." He felt his heart race when he heard you pronounce his name. Your voice sounded so sweet to his sensitive na'vi ears, making him move them somewhat to the sides. It was the same voice he heard in the forest, when he watched you talk to yourself saying how beautiful you thought some yellow, bioluminescent flower that you saw in the grass was.

"You're a Dreamwalker. I've seen you around. I love how much you seem to appreciate and respect my Planet instead of destroying it like the others from your kind do. That's why I think you're more na'vi than human." He chuckled happily and you got confused by his last sentence.

You had to admit he looked cute when his fangs escaped from under his upper lip whenever he smiled or chuckled. But you felt so weird thinking that.

"I'm more na'vi than human?" You were intrigued "What do you mean?" You laughed a bit and he continued on staring at you in an intense manner.

Neteyam heard footsteps approaching, so, he started to move just so he could hide. He did not want any other human but you seeing him. He knew he could not trust them as he could trust you.

"Wait! Where are you -" before you could finish your words, he was already gone.

The brown wooden door behind you opened and Derek appeared carrying a pile of plates in his arms.

"Hey, cutie." He walked towards the sink, leaving the dirty dishes there to be washed by himself when he would be back in the kitchen.

"Hi, Derek." You smiled faintly. You were still recovering from that odd interaction you had with Neteyam Sully.

Derek came close to your ear and whispered:

"Feel like meeting me tonight? I miss you." You sighed

"I don't know... I'm not really in the mood, sorry." You answered, uninterested

He got a little surprised by your answer and moved his eyebrows up, making wrinkles appear in his forehead but quickly remembered he had much work to do outside, so, he walked towards the door and got out of the room without saying another word to you.

Neteyam was still out there, next to the window, leaning against the wall. He was listening to the conversation the whole time. He had to use all the self control he learned to have with the years to not hiss when he heard that human call you "cutie" and ask if you wanted to meet him tonight. Who was he, anyway? And why was he saying he missed you? Neteyam had never seen you show any sign that he was your mate before. He had to find out what was going on. Neteyam would not let anyone get between the both of you. It would not be a weak human male that would be the obstacle that would make him give up on his future mate. He was used to challenges and was not afraid of another one. That would probably even be fun. Neteyam could imagine that tiny mate of yours shivering in fear when he showed him his big, sharp fangs.

Neteyam decided he was gonna find out who the hell that mate of yours was. He was sure he was not better than him. That human male would never be as strong as he was. That human would never be able to hunt fresh food for you, walking through the forests of Pandora and confronting big, dangerous animals, like Neteyam would. He knew he outbraved that human. He could never be a good mate to you like Neteyam could be. You deserved better than him.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

@xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @xxunnie @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri

I tagged some of you that did not ask to be tagged but left really cute comments on the last chapter that made my heart feel warm 💓 if u don't wanna be tagged, just lemme know

Also, if someone wants to be added to the taglist too just leave a comment below saying that 🤍

[hellfirenacht]

Plus One Chapter 1

Summary: Once upon a time, you made a deal with the school freak that if he ever got famous then he'd invite you to be his plus one at a red carpet event. Now a decade later an invite shows up at your house asking you to be the +1 to Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin.

Tags: modern!au, Eddie and Reader are in their late 20's/early 30's after the deal is made. Rockstar!Eddie. Friends to strangers to friends to lovers, references to Flight of Icarus characters eventually

The squeak of desks being pushed across linoleum flooring made you wince as everyone adjusted the classroom for partner work. It was too early for this, you hadn’t slept the night before and had almost been late to this class, taking your seat at the last second just as the bell rang. 

First period science wasn’t your hardest class, but it wasn’t exactly your best subject either. You’d been floating along with a solid C and that was as good as you were hoping to get. As long as you graduated by this point, you’d be happy. It was near the end of your senior year, and senioritis was hitting you hard. It was your hope that you could just coast these last few weeks, pass your finals and get the hell out of the public school system. 

There would be no coasting this morning though as you were all assigned partners. No one was thrilled about this development aside from a few peers who had been partnered with their friends. You weren’t exactly unpopular but you didn’t have anyone in this class that you would consider a friend or even an acquaintance. You’d borrowed a pencil once from Randy who sat in front of you, but other than that you kept to yourself first thing in the morning. 

Which is why when the name ‘Munson’ was called out along with your own surname you’d barely registered who that was. A few people snickered and you caught one girl giving you a pitying look as you tried to connect the name to a face. It took your partner sitting down across from you for you to realize who you’d been paired with. 

Munson. Eddie Munson. Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson. 

Ah. That Munson. 

“Uh, hi.” he said, with a wave and you desperately tried to reconnect the tired wires in your brain to say hi back. 

“Mornin’” you managed to spit out. He sat in the back of the class on the opposite side of the room. You rarely even saw him in class because you were usually here before him, and he was the first to get out the door when class ended. You never said a word to him the whole semester, but again, you didn’t talk to anyone in this class. 

Worksheets were passed around and you stared at the different questions and equations. You might as well be sitting in Latin class with as much as this made sense to you. 

“I know this is a higher level than what you all are used to, but this is what is going to be expected of you in college next year.” Your teacher explained, followed by a chorus of groans which included yours as well as Eddie’s. 

The two of you stared at the worksheet for a moment before making eye contact. You felt a little nervous under his gaze; you’d seen him around school and had heard the rumors about the leader of the Dungeons and Dragons club. He’d been seen pushing around freshmen wearing the same shirt as him, and was often regarded as a loudmouth and a danger to everyone in school. 

It didn’t help his case that he looked older than you. His broad shoulders were only accentuated by the heavy leather jacket and denim vest giving him the appearance of someone who absolutely should not be in high school. How old was he anyway? 

“Eddie.” 

You blinked, surprised he was the first to speak. You offered your name as well with a nod, neither of you going for the handshake. 

“So... does any of this make sense to you?” he asked, looking back down at the worksheet. 

You glanced down with a small laugh. “Not even a little.” 

“Shit.”

“Shit.”

He looked up at you with a sheepish grin, and you swear it took at least five years off his appearance. You found yourself relaxing just a bit, if he was as dangerous as everyone made him out to be, at least he wouldn’t do something stupid in the middle of class. Hopefully. 

You grabbed your textbook and opened it up and Eddie leaned over the desk to read with you. 

“Sorry, forgot mine.” He said and you adjusted the book so it sat between the two of you. 

The next half hour was a testament of will as the two of you tried your best to work out the formulas put in front of you. The ancient calculators that the teacher had provided only caused more confusion between the two of you and you tried to figure out buttons that you had never had to press before. 

“I’m sure someone, somewhere is using this on a daily basis.” you said as you jotted down a string of numbers that you were positive were wildly incorrect. “I understand that this is important to someone, but outside of a trivia game there’s no way I’m ever going to even think about this ever again.” 

You were mostly talking to yourself, not expecting a response from your partner. He was looking at the calculator, and your string of numbers with equal confusion. 

“Music is as advanced as my math skills go.” Eddie said. He’d removed his jacket at some point where you were staring at your textbook with a blank expression trying to understand how to apply the formulas. You couldn’t stop your eyes from occasionally flicking towards the tattoos that covered his right arm. So he was at least old enough to get tattoos... or to have a parent or guardian agree to let him get tattoos. 

You weren’t sure why you were so hung up on his age. Maybe it was easier to focus on that mystery than the jumble of letters and numbers that was making your brain more numb than it already felt. 

“What kind of music?” The question was out of your mouth without thinking. You didn’t think you’d seen him hang out with the band or orchestra kids before. 

“Metal and rock music mostly.” Eddie said, erasing one of the numbers. His pencil was a cheap one, and only managed to make a huge smudge on his paper rather than clear his answer. You handed over your own pencil on instinct and he took it with a thanks. 

“Do you play an instrument or something?” you asked, already checked out of the worksheet. Fuck it. It’s not like it was going to count for much anyway. 

“Yeah I, uh, I’ve been playing guitar since I was a kid.” There was a light in his eyes that made you wonder why anyone would ever think he was dangerous or scary. In the half hour that the two of you had been struggling with this busy work the two of you had been making small talk that you’d found way more engaging. 

“Electric or guitar?” you asked, and it was when Eddie let out a laugh that you realized what you had asked. You pressed your hands to your face with an embarrassed chuckle. “I didn’t sleep last night.” 

“I play electric and guitar.” came the teasing response. “But I lean more towards electric unless my uncle is home or I need to keep it down.”

“Are you any good?” 

“Good enough to have a steady gig at the Hideout.” he shrugged. “It’s not much, but it’s a stage. Sort of.” 

Eddie had also given up on the worksheet and was using your pencil to absently doodle in the margins of the paper. 

“I have no idea where that is.” 

“Shady dive bar in the warehouse district. My band and I play on Tuesdays, you should come see us sometime. It’s a shithole, but it’s safe.” The last part was added hastily as he saw your weary expression. 

A shady dive bar on a school night? Not a great chance of that. 

“What’s your band called?” 

“Corroded Coffin.” he dug around his pockets in his jeans and jacket before he pulled out a bent cut out piece of flashcard and handed it to you. It had the band’s name scribbled on it in sharpie and a list of socials on the back. It screamed home made and there was a charm to it that made you smile. 

“I’ll check you out.” you said, tucking it into the book you had been reading for the past week knowing damn well that you were probably going to forget about it the second it was out of sight. 

“Don’t worry about the worksheet being perfect.” the teacher piped up from their desk. “Just do your best, and it’s only being counted as pass/fail. I’m just trying to see that you’re all able to use your critical thinking skills to look up information.”

“I’m about to use my critical thinking skills to bullshit the rest of the worksheet.” Eddie muttered and you laughed. 

You grabbed his worksheet and scribbled down a formula and some numbers and handed it back. “Long as there’s something written down she doesn’t care.” 

That was good enough for the both of you as you set the papers aside. There was still a good fifteen minutes left in class, and you expected that the two of you would just sit awkwardly in your grouped desk facing each other until the bell rang. You almost laid your head down on the desk and try and get a power nap in, but curiosity was getting the better of you. 

“So, you wanna do music for a living?” you asked, looking at him again. 

“Ideally.” Eddie said, fidgeting with your pencil still. You decided that it was his pencil now, you had others in your bag. “I know it’s a long shot and most of my band is still gonna be in school when I graduate this year but we’ve got a few songs that we’ve been working on.”

“So you’re gonna be famous one day?” It wasn’t a sarcastic question, but a genuine one. Maybe this guy could be famous one day, you didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t even want to be famous. 

Eddie shook his head and laughed. “I’ll be lucky to keep the lights on with my music, but I’m gonna try.”

“You’re going to be famous.” you told him with a firm nod. The lack of sleep was catching up to you. It’s not like anything in this class was going to matter in the future anyway. “I’ve decided it.”

“You decided that I’m going to be famous?” he asked slowly, as if trying to decide if you were fucking with him or not. 

“Yeah, why not?” You replied. 

He stared at you and his gaze turned intense as he sat up straighter. Eddie’s gaze swept over your face, looking for any sign that you were speaking with ill intent, when he found none, he gave you a smile. 

“I’ll hold you to it then.” he said. “If I don’t get famous I’m holding you personally responsible.” 

“Alright, but there’s a catch.” your smile widened. 

“A catch? You won’t let me get famous on my charm and talent alone?” He tilted his head with a grin. 

“Nope. I need payment. Deciding things isn’t cheap, you know.” you were delusional from lack of sleep, and you probably sounded crazy to him.

“Alright, what’s your fee?” Eddie leaned back in his chair, looking as if he were trying to start a business deal. His demeanor change starkly contrasted the long dark hair, band t shirt, and heavy metal rings he wore and you had to stop yourself from laughing. 

You thought about it for a moment. “I want to be your plus one to at least one of your red carpet events.” you said. “I think that’s payment enough.”

He rubbed his chin in thought, as if carefully considering your offer. “And if I don’t.”

“If you forget to come back for Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.” you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing now at how ridiculous you sounded. 

“Holes? Really?” Eddie snorted. “Alright, I know how that story ends. You have a deal.” 

He offered you his hand and you two shook on it. 

And because you two had at least ten minutes to kill, Eddie took out a beat up notebook and started drawing up a contract to make it official. The two of you debated on the wording, and how it should be drawn out. In the end, it was decided that Eddie would have at least five years after his first red carpet to invite you to an event (your idea) or else he’d be cursed and he’d end up on TMZ in a scandal involving a goat and a runaway parade float (his idea).

You each signed the fake contract, dated it, and had the teacher notarize it. 

“Did you two even try to do the worksheet?” they asked, signing and stamping the notebook with a ‘GOOD JOB!’ stamp.

“We tried.” Eddie smiled at the teacher, taking the notebook back and trading it for the worksheets.

The bell rang and you two shook hands one last time. The last few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of spring break, prom season, and graduation. You barely talked to Eddie after that class, occasionally saying hi to him in the hallway, or the odd small chat during class. You’d managed to get him to sign your yearbook, but he hadn’t asked you to sign his. You felt a little sad about it, looking back. He’d been nice to talk to, and his reputation hadn’t lived up to that hour that you’d been forced to spend with him. 

Graduation was the last time you’d seen him, when he’d run across the stage, flipped off Principal Higgins and ran off like a bat out of hell. You had looked for him passively in the chaos and sea of graduates and their families taking photos and congratulating each other. Okay, maybe you’d looked for him a bit more deliberately than you’d let on. 

Maybe you had developed a small crush on Eddie in that hour that you’d spent working on that stupid worksheet. Maybe you had hoped that when you gave him your email in that contract he’d reach out to you to say hi. Maybe, yes, you did eventually remember the handmade business card for Corroded Coffin and had looked up their information a month into summer to find them as dead and dry as the Sahara desert, with only a muffled .mp3 of one of their songs to go off of. 

There were a lot of maybe’s that came with being in high school. 

But life moves on. You forget about the man with the long dark hair and boyish smile. Your yearbook gets tucked away in a box, out of site and out of mind. The homemade business card gets lost under the bed and eventually tossed in a deep clean as you get ready to move to college and move out. The muffled .mp3 sits in your computer for years until you get a smartphone and stuff a ton of your old music on it, shuffling it into your streaming playlists. 

The song gets skipped over more often than you’d ever admit. 

And now there you were in your new apartment a year after graduating college, living on your own for the first time. No dorm, no family, no roommates, no partner. 

It was the middle of your work week, and you were outside checking the mail. You flipped through the envelopes of junk and bills for anything that would have been worth the walk from your apartment to the community mailbox. 

A thick envelope with your name and address was in the middle of the pile. Your name was hand lettered in fancy script and you glanced at where the return address should be. 

WR RECORDS 

Who?

You pulled the envelope out and glanced at the rest of the mail to make sure there was nothing important there before tossing it into your neighbors recycling bin. You ripped open the envelope. 

Inside was a thick black card, and your name was once again written in beautiful red ink that reflected off the dark card stock. 

WR Records would like to invite you to be the +1 to Mr. Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin to this year's annual Hellfire Awards.

And below that in chicken scratch handwriting that wildly contrasted the careful lettering of the rest of the card: 

A deal’s a deal.

You stared at the words and read them over and over and over again, trying to make sense of them and only one question passed your mind. 

“Who the fuck is Eddie Munson?” 

---

Please comment and reblog <3

Tag List: @hellfiredarling @crocwork-clockodile @hitoshislut @kurdtbean @kennedy-brooke @daisyridleyyyy

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace- 10

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae

Word count: 3,1k

Masterlist

Part 9~Part 11(coming soon)

"Carlos! Carlos! Carlos! Look! Look! Look!” Your excitement is uncontainable. There was a knock on the door early in the morning. You opened the door to a package in the hands of one of your security guards. With the name of one of the lesser-known clothing brands in Milan. You'd slept in the same bed as Carlos, and it’s brought you closer together. You jump on the bed, just barely missing his sleeping form, well, now no longer sleeping. 

He doesn't even groan at your excitement. Instead, he wakes up with a smile. "Goodmorning, mi dulce niña, what has got you so riled up before 7 in the morning?” He asks, picking you up by the waist and placing you in his lap. "I got a package, see?” He rubs his eyes, now really waking up. He takes the box from your hands and reads the letter that came with.  

"Dear, Y/N, we've seen your videos and would love for you to show off some of our best looks on the paddock. Gioia Bini.” He doesn't show much of a reaction, clearly though just a bluff, a wide grin covers his face. He grabs you and then pulls you close to him. His scruff tickles you as he places a thousand small kisses all over. Your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks.  

You can't help but laugh, joy coursing through you. "I'm so proud of you!” His words feel like adrenaline through your bones. You can feel your childhood hopes and dreams spark alive again. This is a moment you'll be saving forever. Like a wallpaper for your mind. Because while he gives you words of praise you feel nothing but pure joy.  

"Let me fit it, and you can help me chose when and which one.” The first one is that classic Ferrari read, never before have you realised how good you look in the colour. Or just how good it feels to see him look at you like that. As if you're worth a million, no, a billion dollars. The second one is a short, white dress.  

"Mmh, a difficult choice. You know I love you in red, but I can't wait to see you in white.” "What?” Did he really just say that? Marriage? Yes, you're crazy about him, but you've only known him a month. But he doesn't answer. At all. He brushes it off as if he never said it. As if he meant to keep it in his mind or say it in Spanish.  

He then checks his watch; he'd already gotten ready in his gym clothes. "We'll decide after the gym.” You smile and go to get ready for your everyday. "Okay, enjoy yourself,” yet before you could go change, he grabs you by the wrist. "Ah, ah, ah. You're joining me. Remember the deal?” The realisation hits you, he must be making a joke, he can't be serious.  

Yet, he was dead serious about the smoking. He was dead serious about the healthy eating; you could see your hips becoming a bit softer and your legs just a bit rounder. His fingers come up to your chin and close your mouth. "You'll catch flies, why is this bothering you so much?” You rip your wrist from his hand.  

"Fine.” You don't mean to sound so harsh, but you can feel the memories surfacing. You can't help but stare at yourself in the mirror. Does he not like your body? Does he want it different? Will he be taking your privilege if you don't go? You thought you were more to him? More than just a body. Is that why he won't touch you? He doesn't think your body is good enough yet? 

"You're killing me,” you're heaving heavily. Squeezing your sides from the stitches as you hang over the treadmill. All while your sugar daddy and your shared personal trainer is laughing at your reaction. "You! This is all your fault. I thought you-” the word love plays on your tongue. No, he can't possibly love you. If he does, there must be something wrong with him.  

"-cared for me! And now? Now you're trying to kill me.” You just barely peer over to him. He hasn't even broken a sweat and yet he's done 3 times more than you. "It's just a 10 minute run, Y/N. I understand you had that classic French diet, but we have to start somewhere.” Rupert explains, trying to encourage you.  

It doesn't help, you can feel your lungs burning. But Carlos knows. He knows what motivates you, he knows what pushes your buttons. He tells Bob to go fill out your water bottle again. Then he does the same as before, lifts your chin and then brings your ear close to his mouth. "Come on, show Daddy you'll be able to keep up with me.” He shoots you a wink and before you know it, Bob is back.  

Your cheeks are bright red, and you just hope and pray that the trainer will think it's from the exercise. "Alright, Rupert, peak health. As good as a high-performance athlete.” You send Carlos a wink, hoping that it has the same effect on him as it has on you. It doesn't he doesn't blush, not once, in fact his smirk grows wider.  

"Carlos did what?” You bite your lip at Alexandra's reaction. "He gave me his card and told me to go shop.” Kika lets out a laugh. "We heard you; we're just shocked.” You look at the both of them, their opinions matter a lot to you. You want what they have, what they are. You want to join them on their girls-trips and always enjoy the hospitalities with them on the paddock.  

"What? Does Pierre not do that?” You ask, feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights. "I wish." She scoffs taking a sip from her drink. "Neither does Charles. I mean, he does give me presents and naturally we go on vacation together, but rarely does he just give me his card.” She still looks a bit taken back. "His Black Amex at that too.” Kika interrupts.  

The realisation of just how different your relationship is hits you. You didn't think from the start that they're sugar babies, but you thought at least their boyfriends would treat them the same. Or at least, similarly. Even so, for the most part your behaviour seems more girlfriend than sugar baby. Should you be acting different?  

"And the car too! Kika, did you see her car?” Alex calls out, putting down her drink. "Car?” Portuguese girl asks after swallowing her bite. Alex squeals and then pulls out her phone. At the moment, you feel like an outsider. You feel like they're gossiping about you, even if you're right next to them. She then shows Kika your Instagram, and they both swoon. Has she been watching you? 

 "You follow me?” She chuckles and nods, "Of course, girl, I've been stalking you since Charles told me Carlos got a new girl.” You chuckle, this all feels so schoolgirl. As if you aren't surrounded by some of the riches people on earth. "So, he's had plenty of girlfriends then?” She thinks for a moment, before backtracking on her words. 

"I wouldn't call them girlfriends. They're more like flings than anything. But you... I think you're here to stay.” She takes your hands in her own. "Why do you say so.” Before she even starts speaking, she leers over her sunglasses to Brutis and Otis. "Because they've never been here before." You regret wearing the claw-clip now, because you're so ready to hide.  

Kika finishes her drink, "Yeah, do they follow you everywhere?” She asks while turning back and waving to them. No reaction on their part. You sigh, letting go of Alex's hands and hiding your face. "Ugh, yes, it's Carlos' only fault. His protectiveness." Alex laughs and then shrugs. "It makes sense, the fans can be more dangerous than you realise..." It feels like the same speech he gave you.

"Yeah, didn't you see all those videos at the concerts? People are throwing things these days..." Kika agrees with Alex. If three people think the same, maybe it is logical? You haven't told Ilsa or Jasmine about them, you already know how they'll overreact.  

"I guess he's just worried about me," both of the girls only hum, but like classic good friends they give each other a knowing look. "But they're not much fun, are they?" She reads you like a book, they've been such a drag. A looming figure you just can't get rid of. And you know other people are staring more at them than they are at you. After all, you're not even that famous. "Why don't we ditch them?" Alex asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I don't know, I don't want to stress Carlos out. With the practice and all, I don't want him to get hurt..."  

They both groan and boo at your hesitation. "He's not your dad, you don't have to do everything he says." Kika gives a sharp side eye, but she too has the playful aura. "Yeah, all three our boys are busy right now. We won't be bothering them. You can barely reach them when they're caught up in the media like this." She's right, so far you've just been sitting here eating lunch with them. After that, you have no idea. Carlos has so much to do and you honestly don't feel like getting in his hair. "Oh alright, how are we going to do this?"  

"Woohoo! Isn't this so much more fun than sitting around with those old men?" You can barely hear her over the sound of the radio. You're driving down the streets of Milan, again. This time an even bigger budget in mind with your new girl friends.

Even better so that those two boys aren't here to ruin the party, they'd been blowing up your phone and you've been gladly ignoring them. Gucci scarves, Prada heels, Hermés handbags, anything you could dream off. All the while the three of you go crazy on your Instagram. Showing everyone the life.  

"Oo girl, Carlos is going to attack you like some vicious animal when he sees you in that." Kika smirks as you all fit the lingerie on, after all the shopping and treats you all feel much closer together. You can only laugh, too ashamed to truly speak of all that is happening. Alex whines and places her head on your shoulder. "You really have the perfect guy." You can only laugh at her. "And what? Charles Leclerc is a deadbeat?"  

He's getting paid more than Carlos, he's more stable with Ferrari than Carlos and they've been longer together than the two of you. She laughs and admires herself in the changing room mirror. "I really like him, don't get me wrong. But he's not obsessed with me like Carlos is with you."

You blush and begin changing back into your clothes. "I wouldn't say he's obsessed with me." You both leave the changing room at the same time, conveniently with Kika outside still deep in your conversation.  

"Girl, have you seen the way he looks for you? All he does for you? What has it been? 6 Months? I would marry that man already if I were you. Just to make sure he doesn't get away." If you had a drink you would've spit it out. "Kika! It's a bit early, don't you think?" You're glad she shares your shock, otherwise you'd be certain that they're both crazy. "Not at all." You all three laugh at her, now you're really enjoying yourself.  

The ringtone rings, Sade's Smooth Operator plays due to the ringtone. "Speak of the devil." You say, holding up your phone after paying. You answer the phone while walking out the doors. "Where the fuck are you?" You can't help but let a laugh escape. He must be joking or something, you've never heard this time from him. He's never been aggressive towards you, ever. "This is not something to be fucking laughing about. Get back to the hotel, now."  

You fall back, behind the two girls, not wanting them to listen to the conversation. "Why? It's not even," you go to look at the time only to realise free practice has long since ended. Not to mention, it's almost 5. "Oh shit..." You mutter, not realising how long you've been out and about.

"Oh shit is right. Get back to the hotel. Now." His voice is much sterner than you've ever heard him be. Comparable to the rage you've seen in the videos, after he's been let down by his team, again. Have you let him down?  

You open the hotel door. All while taking off your heels and putting them to the side. "Carlos?" You call out, not seeing him lounging around, likely guessing that he's changing. In your mind, he's supposed to go to the gym right around now. The trainer has kept your sessions three times a week for now. However, walking further into the hotel room you see him on the balcony. In his workout clothes, his back faced to you with the setting sun of Italy in the background.  

"Carlos," he doesn't look to be as angry as he sounded on the phone. Then again, you've never really seen him angry. He turns to you, now you can truly gauge his emotions. "Where were you?" You go to answer him but he raises his hand. "More importantly why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Anger, yes, it's prevalent, but more importantly you see fear. Utter frustration in his eyes, he looks like he's ran a  marathon. 

You shrug, inspecting your still un-pedicured toes. That was one of the many things you plan on doing with your mom next week when you visit. "I didn't want to bother you. You were busy with the media." He scoffs at your words, his dark hair moving with his dramatic reactions. He repeats your words in a mutter. "So you thought it would be better to scare the living shit out of me?" He does look truly terrified. His usually soft eyes are now hard like rock. Like the amber stones his eyes so resemble.  

"Do you know how it felt? I was in the middle of a drivers meeting. I thought someone took you from me!" You see tears form in his eyes. His backlash has a similar effect on you. You can feel the rock in your throat and the burning in your jaw. Yet still you don't dare say a word, after all you have nothing to say.

"Worse even, I thought you left me. I thought that they had said something that made you leave. That you realise you deserve much more than me." This makes you laugh, or maybe it's just to keep the sobs from escaping.  

But the laugh seems to pierce his heart. "You're laughing? I'm ready to burn the whole of Italy just to find you and you're laughing?" Now, now you see anger. Raging burning anger. Like it's been locked in a cage and now it's free and gulping up oxygen.

"No, Carlos. It's funny to me that you think I deserve better? You quite literally took me in from the streets. Fed me with Caviar, clothed me with Gucci and cared for me like a king his queen, expecting nothing in return. And yet still believe I deserve better?"  

Now it's his turn to laugh. You can see his fighting a battle in his mind. What to say and what not to say. "Can't you see? In five years I'll be washed up. Not a single Championship to my name and my money spent on stupidly expensive watches and cars that don't even hold one shopping bag. But you, you're immortal. Your beauty should be and I'm convinced will be remembered until every last mind withers from this earth.  Every single dime spent on you, is for the betterment of humanity."  

How on earth can you really mean so much to him? What is it about you? How can one glance from an alleyway have this man in tears in front of you. You can't control yourself, you just need to feel his arms around you.

You need to hold him and comfort him. Tell him you'll stay forever. How sorry you are and that it won't ever happen again. And he lets you. He lets the tears fall in the crook your neck. His grip tighter than you thought possible. To the point where it aches. But, that's what love is, right? It aches.  

He combs his fingers through your hair, whispering words that you'll never know what they mean. "Estoy obsesionado contigo. Si no puedo abrazarte por el resto de mi vida, entonces no tengo vida que esperar. Si no es en tus brazos donde muero, será en ese maldito coche de carreras, aunque tenga que asegurarme de ello."  

Taglist is open, just ask!

[i-eat-boyz]

Oliver and Felix fuck when they're drunk.

The next morning Felix is like, "I'm not gay mate. Not that there's anything wrong with it just not me."

Oliver scheming little freak who just so happened to have a really emotional "coming out" a week prior in Felix's dorm room after "slipping up" about how hot Farleigh is while high. Laughs him off while putting his clothes on and says, "I could tell your straight. It happens sometimes. Don't worry about it. It won't happen ever again." Leaves Felix spiraling in a crisis in his dorm room.

What does Oliver mean 'he could tell'. Was he bad he couldn't be he'd shagged plenty of girls and never had a complaint. Not that they did much talking after but, they always came back for seconds... most of the time. How could Felix not worry about it he'd slept with his Bi best friend. What if poor Ollie started catching feelings what would he do? He doesn't know how to let down a guy he barely ever rejected a girl unless she was a total minger. Even then if no one was around he went for it.

The more Felix sat there stewing in his own thoughts scratching at the crusty feeling around his waist he halted on one thought. Oliver said, "... it happens sometimes.". Does that mean Oliver's fucked other dudes presumably straight dudes when they got to drunk or did he mean friends as in best friends fucking about sometimes. Felix had his fair share (maybe more than fair) of friends with benefits. So he doesn't know why that idea of his shy, quiet, and awkward Oliver having people he was comfortable enough to be friends and fuck grated him a bit.

He's Oliver's closest friend he knows that. That's why he said it won't happen again. Felix is straight and they wouldn't want to mess up their relationship. They're already as close as two people could be without being in a relationship. That's why he said it not because Felix wasn't good enough.

[satureja13]

Vlad's Therapy Game - Part 4

Good news: Both, Bunny and Vlad survived the night! (And of course Diablo too :)

Vlad slept like the dead (that he actually is) even though he only had a quarter of an inch hay between him and the hard, cold soil. After he woke up, he felt like he'd been hit by a tractor - twice. He moaned and crawled up like an old man. Apparently Diablo woke him.

Diablo: 'Omg, get up already! Finish your job and let's leave this foul place! They devour me with their eyes!' Vlad, barely awake and full of aches: "Sure, pal. Let's get this over with. Keep your distance to the village until I finish work."

Diablo: 'You betcha.'

Vlad shuffled over to the sculptor's shop. From what he sees, he is a master of his craft and he has no idea why no one wanted to work for him. Well, he'll soon find out. Not that he cared much. This is just a game and he dealt with harder tasks. He'd even been to hell and back. So one day working here won't kill him. It's for Ji Ho and Saiwa - and his best friend Jack after all. There was music playing in the shop, so the sculptor is already there too, despite the early hour.

'Enjoy what'chas got, not what you have not 'tis a weak heart lamenting with sorrow When the days seem cursed, it could always be worse Fight depression with sword and arrow'

The Sculptor: "Good Morning! You're early, that's great. Take off your shirt and let's start right away. The queen is eagerly waiting for her statue!"

'When the zeppelinous clouds of trouble abound And thunder is clapping and lightning strikes ground Just when yer thinking this may be your last Throw a lash 'round the mast, hold fast!'

Eh - take off his shirt? He knows this voice. It belongs to the very person who always demands him to take off his shirt!

'When the world ain't right, and it smithes ye with strife Ye can now buckle down, it's a test they call life Very soon you will see what kind of animal you'd be Taking the bite outta life'

Leander! Vlad's nemesis! The very man who never fails to make him lose his composure! The red-haired devil who wanted to marry him. Yeah - he only cursed Vlad and dragged him down to his hell to protect him - but that does not mean he'll ever forgive him that he touched Ji Ho and almost drowned him! (Which actually wasn't Leander's fault either...)

'When they're testing the gallows, yer hung like a dog Or they're marching us out to a firing squad We just smile and recall all the good times we had It's the best 'til tomorrow It's the best day 'til tomorrow'

But of course NPC Leander did not recognize him. Because this is just a game. A stupid game! He'll have a word with Tiny Can when he's back, that's for sure... Leander: "Ah the gods sent you! You're beautiful - the Queen will be pleased! Sit over there."

'No considering surrender when yer down in the dregs If ye look down and notice you still have your legs So stand up and fight you just might seize the day It's the best day 'til tomorrow'

The Real McKenzies - Best Day until Tomorrow If you happen to like punk: this song is really good! I just found it by chance and it fits so well!

And so Vlad took off his shirt (and his pride) for Leander - again... He grit his teeth and tried not to freak out and kill this annoyingly oblivious NPC. And he reminded himself over and over again that this is just a game. And for whom he does this. Ji Ho. Jack. Saiwa. Just. A. Game.

(It seems like NPC Leander ist just as full of himself and annoying as real Leander and therefore the village folks avoids him ^^')

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[guilty-pleasures21]

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

Might try to finish this one up soon, because I got an idea for another fic (🥲), but I don't want to make the ending too abrupt.

1. Ergh, I don't really know if I want to write this ...

2. I wrote it

Part 1 - the towel

Part 2 - the morning after

Warnings: um, well, they're naked?

----------------------------------------------------------

She woke up the next morning to a soothingly heavy weight on her waist and a deliciously solid presence behind her back. She snuggled deeper into her warm cocoon and Miguel slid his hand over her- Wait. Miguel? Miguel! She twisted her head back to get a glimpse of the man lying behind her, then turned back around when she’d confirmed that yes, it was Miguel. As in her boss Miguel. As in ‘holy freaking shit, she’d just slept with her boss’ Miguel! X clutched tighter onto her quilt, then began discreetly trying to wriggle herself out of his grip - maybe she could sneak out. Of her own house. And then call in sick or something and send him her letter of resignation once he’d left.

“¿Cariño? (Sweetheart?)” Miguel’s deep voice rumbled through her bones, still rusty from sleep, and a shiver ran down her spine. He chuckled and cuddled her closer to him so he could lean over to press a kiss to the crook of her neck. The crook of her neck which was bare because she was naked in bed with her boss! “¿Qué paso, arañita? (What happened, little spider?)”

She tried not to react as he continued to press soft and appreciative kisses along her bare shoulder. But then his fingers were brushing across her nipple and his thigh was slipping in between her legs and it took everything in her to bite down on her lip and muffle the squeak that fell from her mouth. “Um, nothing! Go back to sleep, Miguel! This was just one crazy dream …”

Miguel let out another snicker and X shuddered again. “Mmm, if this is a dream, then I don't want to wake up, mi arañita linda. (... my lovely little spider.)”

Holy shit! Did his morning voice have to be so hot?! Did his everything have to be so hot?! He squeezed her breast gently and she sucked in a breath as her body stretched put so that her p*ssy brushed up against his leg. Shit! “M-Miguel!”

She grabbed onto his arm and lifted it off of her body so she could wriggle further away from him. Miguel finally sat up, confused. “¿Arañita? What's wrong?”

She was acting differently to last night - less playful, less affectionate - and he didn’t know what had happened to prompt the unexpected change.

X pulled the quilt all the way up to her eyes, then let her gaze trail over his body: his broad chest, his tanned skin, his defined muscles - all of which she now knew the feeling of against her. Against her naked body. She gulped at the thought.

“Um, is this … okay?” she asked him softly. “Like, is it going to be awkward at work … or something? I just … I'm just kind of nervous because I've never done this before, and I don't really know how things work, and, I mean, you're also, like, my boss and … and oh my God. Please don't fire me! I'll quit! I’ll just, like, hand in my resignation or something! That's okay, right? It won't look bad on my résumé or anything? But I really like this job! And I'm good at it! And I've still got quite a while left of my contract. Oh my gosh. Should we just have waited? I dunno. Would you still like me if I wasn't here?”

“Arañita,” Miguel stopped her, leaning over her to catch her attention. “Breathe.” He could feel her nervous energy rubbing off on him as she’d continued with her rant - did she regret it? He definitely didn’t, but maybe he’d rushed her. Maybe he should have sat her down and talked to her and then taken her for dinner or something. And then he could have f*cked her to sleep. X took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

“I'll like you wherever you are, arañita,” Miguel assured her, his fingers aching to reach out and touch her. He clenched his fists instead, trying to focus on soothing her concerns first. “But … do you regret it? Do you want us to wait?” ¡Dios, por favor! (God, please!) Say no, please say no! He didn’t think he could go another day without touching her - not now that he knew what she felt like in his arms.

“No!” X replied immediately, not even waiting to process his sad eyes and his nervous grimace and the anxious furrow of his brows. “I don’t regret it!” Miguel breathed a sigh of relief at her admission.

“And I don’t want to wait,” X continued, pulling her quilt back up over her mouth and nose. “I really like you, Miguel. But … do you like me?”

She blinked her eyes up at him, her voice riddled with insecurity, and his heart cracked at the sight. Of course he liked her! He’d liked her ever since she’d raced into that meeting room and scribbled her ideas all over the board in a way that had made sense only to him - the day he’d given her that nickname everyone in the office now knew her by.

“Of course I like you!” he exclaimed incredulously. “You think I'd have had sex with you if I didn't?!”

“I don’t know!” X sat up, raising her voice to match his. Her expression turned uncertain again as she considered his words. “Maybe you just wanted sex … or something.” Her voice softened as she said the word and she lowered her gaze, embarrassed.

“I mean, isn’t that what good looking guys do?” she finished. She winced at her own words, hearing herself how stupid the argument sounded. But she just wanted some reassurance from him - a confirmation that he wouldn’t just get bored of her and then leave her to go chase after the next pretty thing. Not that he’d ever done anything to make her think that he would do that. But … Miguel fixed her with another disbelieving look.

“¿Qué p*tas? (What the f*ck?)" Miguel narrowed his eyes at her, completely and utterly bewildered as to how she’d possibly come to that conclusion. She thought he’d wanted sex from her just because he was ‘good looking’? ¿Qué mierda? (What the hell?) How the f*ck was he supposed to respond to that?! “Wait. So, you think I just wanted to have sex with you … because I’m ‘good looking’? ¿Qué mierda, arañita?”

“No! I mean … I mean, like …” X waved her hands around, trying to come up with a response. But then her quilt slipped down to her waist and Miguel's eyes fell to her breasts immediately, his pupils dilating with desire as he took her in. X rushed to pull the material back up over herself and Miguel shot her a guilty look.

“Uh …” He waved one hand at her body and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. “I mean … I've already seen … all of it … arañita.”

He snuck a glance at her again and his lips twitched at the ends when he saw the glare she was giving him. She was so cute when she was mad.

“Miguel!” She grabbed a pillow and whacked him over the head with it, too quick for him to block her attack.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, giving her a questioning look once she’d set the pillow down. “¡¿Arañita?!”

X huffed in irritation. “See! You're just … You're all ‘sexed up’ right now! You're not going to listen to anything I say!”

‘Sexed up’? How did she keep coming up with this stuff? He had to admit that she might have had a point though, considering the direction in which his thoughts had been headed when she’d exposed herself before him again. But it wasn’t his fault she was just so f*cking delicious! Miguel forced his features into a frown.

“¡Arañita! I have been listening!” he insisted, taking offence at her accusation. Then he sat back and gave her a serious look. “Okay, okay, I'm listening. What is it? What's really bothering you?” X fidgeted with her fingers, thinking.

“I just …” She tucked her hair behind her ear, not meeting his gaze as she spoke. “You're just, like, so amazing and everything and I … I'm just me, you know? There's … nothing special about me or anything. I just … What if you got bored of me one day, you know? And then someone way prettier and way more cool comes along? What do I do then?” Her voice cracked as she finished the thought and Miguel felt his own heart breaking at her words. How could she think that about him? How could think that about herself? Not when she was so pretty and smart and sweet! Miguel grabbed her face, cupping it in his hands so she was forced to look at him.

“¡¿Estás loca, arañita?! ¡¿Qué diablos?! (Are you crazy, little spider?! What the hell?!) How can you say that about yourself?!” He released his hold on her, getting more and more upset with each passing second. “You are special; you’re so special, arañita. I don’t want anyone else but you! You’re so pretty and cute and so smart! I mean, even in your interview, that first day, when I saw you! I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about how pretty you were! With your … your beautiful eyes and your cute smile and your …” His eyes fell to her body - to her small form and her mouth-watering curves and her-

“Not that that’s the reason I hired you!” Miguel assured her quickly, dragging his gaze back up to her face. “You’re really smart! You’re brilliant! And … And that was just an added bonus … to … to the … to what you’d contribute to …”

“Miguel,” X stopped him, snickering at how frazzled he’d become. “You’re rambling now.”

He relaxed, the tension easing from his shoulders when he saw the gentle curve return to her lips.

“I can’t help it, arañita.” He shrugged. “That’s just what you do to me.” X bit her lip, giving him that shy smile that drove him crazy.

“Okay.” She readied herself to lower the quilt, her body heating up in anticipation of his reaction if she did. But then she stopped, suddenly realising how out of her depth she really felt. “But, um, Miguel?”

“Hmm?” Coño, it was like the f*cking towel all over again! Why wasn't she lowering the damn quilt?!

“Can we … take this a little slower?” X asked him carefully, completely oblivious to his thoughts. “I just … I’ve never been in a relationship before, so …”

¡Mierda! (Shit!) Of course! How could he have been so insensitive?!

“Yes! Yes, of course,” Miguel agreed immediately. “We’ll go at your pace, arañita. Whatever you want to do, just tell me.”

“Hmm.” X paused to think about it, her expression much more relaxed now that they'd resolved her insecurities. Then her eyes lit up with an idea. “Should we go on a date?”

She looked so excited, her lips stretched into a hopeful smile as she waited for his response. He liked seeing her happy - and he absolutely adored being the reason for it. He leaned forward to tuck her hair behind her ear and give her a mischievous smirk. “I'll take you on a date, arañita. Where do you want to go?”

She bit her lip as he began brushing lips along her neck and shoulder, his warm breath tickling her skin and causing a shiver to run down her spine. “Miguel …”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “Tell me where you want to go, arañita. I'll take you wherever you want.”

She reached up to grip his shoulder, then pushed him back slightly so she could start thinking again. “Hmm, a movie?”

Then they wouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing them. Smart. Miguel cupped her cheek in his hand. “What time do you want to go?”

He leaned forward to press his lips to hers and she sank against his chest, kissing him back. Finally, he pulled away and she treated him to a sweet smile before replying. “We can go in the evening? Then you can go home and get changed too.”

Right. He had a spare set of night clothes he kept at her place - for when he was injured or too tired to go home after a mission. But he'd always get up before she awoke and put on his suit to swing through the city back home - a task that was probably going to be a little more difficult now that everyone was awake and going about their day. But that could wait for later.

“Can I take a shower here first?” Miguel asked, his voice low and thick with desire. Her stomach flipped at the look in his eyes, but she swallowed it down, wanting to tease him a little.

“Sure!” X agreed happily, hopping up and heading over to her closet. “Let me just get you your towel.” His eyes followed her as she walked across the room and stretched onto her toes to grab the towel he'd use whenever he stayed over. Joder, she was beautiful: her long limbs and her soft curves and her tanned skin and curly hair. He couldn't wait to get her into the shower with him. He grinned at her as she handed him the towel, getting up to go over to the bathroom. But then she turned around to start walking in the wrong direction.

“¡Arañita!” Miguel called after her, unable to keep the hint of panic out of his voice. Where the hell was she going now?! X stopped and twisted her head back to look at him, a questioning expression on her face. “Uh, we could … we could save water … if we showered together …”

He looked so guilty as he said it, she had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from bursting into laughter. Her eyes drifted down his towering form, lingering on his handsome face and his rapidly stiffening cock and her stomach fluttered at the sight.

“Oh, it's fine.” She waved away his concerns nonchalantly. “I'm just gonna go put my breakfast first.”

Miguel clutched onto his towel, his heart thudding with panic as she began walking away from him. Another excuse - he needed another excuse!

“¡Arañita!” he called out to her quickly. X turned back to give him a questioning look and he hesitated. “Uh … Don't you need to brush your teeth first?”

“I can wait,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes knowingly as she took a step back towards him. “Besides, I can always just brush my teeth while you're showering. Then we can switch! Let me get you a toothbrush.” She started making her way to the bathroom and Miguel seized the opportunity to race after her.

“After, after: I can brush my teeth after I take a shower.”

Tags: @heubstr

[charliemwrites]

how do you think the keepers of 141 would be w/ insomniac / dsps pets?

DSPS = fancy medical way of saying nocturnal

broight to you by the fact i havent slept at all since 6-10 pm yestersay pls end my life

like poor guy is just, unable to settle down for the life of him. tried music, meditation, weighted blankets, everything, and he still just can't fall asleep so he gets up and starts wandering around. maybe he starts watching tv or a movie, maybe he makes a snack and reads, maybe he decides that now is the perfect time to do some time consuming task or clean every single inch of the house.

keeper wakes up to the sound of the pet accidentally knocking something to the ground, sees pet is gone, and freaks out. goes to living room and its just them staring at each other while the pet eats shredded cheese over the sink (straight from the bag).

on the other hand, the daytime eepiness.

it's barely twelve and poor thing can't keep his eyes open, falling asleep mid conversation, yawning with every word, seeming really distracted. he falls asleep mid - bath which is dangerous but he was just so warm and comfy! ): he can't help taking like fourteen million 10 minute naps per day. he's wandering around still in his jam jams and looks like he literally is asleep on his feet. eepy boy (:

Spiders. Hey spiders? Spiders, darling, I’m concerned. I have mild insomnia that’s managed with meds but oh my god??? And you ask me about water??? Jail for spiders.

Anyway… a good ask.

This fits feral incredibly well. If it’s not canon that Simon is an insomniac for various reasons, it should be. So those two would be up doing chaotic shit together. Like, yes, feral is eating cheese straight from the bag, but Simon is brewing the strongest coffee in this hemisphere and they’re both chatting like it’s a weekend morning. I can see them getting lots of nap times together throughout the day. Ive said before (or at least agreed) that feral is cat-coded so this daytime napping business fits perfectly for him.

Johnny would be a menace, cooing over Shy Thing and trying to get him back into bed. Shy thing would go, wait until he’s snoring, and then creep out again to continue what he was doing. He’s less midnight cheese coded and more starting a lengthy project coded. Like, his whole bedroom needs rearranging, or the bookshelf needs to be reorganized - at 2am. But oh, Johnny would coo over his eepy boy. Dress him up in Johnny’s clothes and watch him shuffle around in too long sleeves, yawning if he sits down for too long, slumping into his shoulder in a nice patch of sunlight.

Good Boy spends all day napping on or against Price. His lap is his favorite spot, but he’ll settle for tucking up against his back too. Price tuts that he needs to stay awake, but poor baby boy just can’t. Price would also try to ~tire~ him out before bed. And while that may put him down for a three hour snooze, Good Boy will be creeping out of bed to watch old cartoons and sew/knit/crochet. Price usually wakes, scoops him up, and sets him in bed with headphones and a tablet.

[frankenkyle19]

Questions Answered

request: I hope this isn't too dark for you to write but re h/c requests (inspired by your latest Kyle fic): Female reader freaking out as she finds hickeys and bruises all over Kyles neck. She accuses him of cheating and wants him to leave her place immediately. The next morning she finds Kyle cowered in front of her door, soakingly wet from having slept outside in the rain after he had been assaulted by his mom once again. Reader finds out what really happened and feels the worst. Kyle is barely lucid from the brutality of the assault and just hazily tells the reader that he is so sorry.

word count: 982

warnings: SA (please please take this seriously, you’ve been warned), mentions of abuse, mentions of Kyles actual shit stain ass crack of a ‘mother’, overall really angsty and upsetting

Cheating had never been a thing to cross your mind. Not Kyle, not your sweet sweet Kyle. But the marks on his neck were obvious, and they weren’t from you. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but how could you? You decided to confront him. 

You two were snuggled up next to each other on your couch, watching a movie. Your stomach churned as you tried to find the strength to open your mouth. 

“Kyle-“ you started, voice shaking as you turned over to look at him, scooting away from him so you two weren’t touching anymore. 

He looked over at you curiously, head tilted to the side, big doe eyes showing some confusion. Why had you pulled away from him? 

“What’s up?” He asked curiously, blinking a few times. What had happened? Oh god, what had you found out about? Kyle was a very open person, never kept secrets from you. Except for one, which was arguably the worst of all. He didn’t tell anyone, not just you. How do you tell someone that your own mother did the unthinkable to you? His stomach dropped as your hand reached up, pulling down the collar of his shirt, eyes glancing over the marks on his neck. Shit. 

“What is this, Kyle? I mean- why? Are you cheating on me?” Tears formed in your eyes, threatening to spill as you looked at him for some sort of answer.

“No! No baby I would never-“ he stammered, sitting up and pulling the collar of his shirt back over his neck. Shit shit shit, he thought he was doing a good job covering them up. 

“Is this why you haven’t wanted to have sex with me?” You continued, anger beginning to boil up inside you.

“No!” He denied again. How could he deny it when there was physical proof?

“No you- that-“ he couldn’t find the words, eyes wide and full of fear. No. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

“Get out of my fucking house, Kyle.” You said, voice scarily calm as you stood up and began walking to the door.

“Please- please don’t make me leave-“ he begged on his hands and knees, tears streaming from his cheeks as he looked up at you. You simply opened the door before crossing your arms.

“Get out, Kyle Spencer.” You never used his last name, so he knew you were serious. 

He shakily stood up, grabbing his bag before he walked out of the door, turning to look at you before you slammed the door in his face before sliding down the wall, putting your head in your hands as you cried. Why had he done this? He’d never do this to you.

Meanwhile, while you cried and tried to grapple with this newfound realization, Kyle had no choice but to go back home, where he was greeted by his mother. He cried to her, wanting to seek some sort of comfort despite how toxic and messed up the situation was.

If he was looking for comfort in her, he was definitely let down. She had said awful things about him. How no one else could love him but her and that she knew this would happen. That he was weak. That he’d never find someone. Then the cycle continued. She assaulted him and left him alone to deal with the aftermath. That was it for him. He couldn’t stay here anymore. He packed a bag and drove over to your house. He was too afraid to knock, knowing you probably wouldn’t answer anyway. He was in for a long night.

When you woke up in the morning, you heard a quiet noise outside your open window. Deciding to check it out you peeked out the front door, eyes wide when you saw what appeared to be a person laying on your doorstep. Not just a person. It was Kyle. Kyle was laying on your doorstep, curled up in a jacket, soaking wet. It had rained last night. 

You quickly opened the door, which caused Kyle to jump, lifting his head to blink at you. He looked exhausted. 

You didn’t question or even try to make small talk with him in the first few minutes, simply helping him inside and getting him and getting a change of clothes.

When he did change in front of you and you saw the bruises to his sides, you knew something was going on. 

“Kyle-“ you said softly, trying to stay calm for him. Afraid he’d bolt at any second. He was on edge.

“Talk to me.” You whispered, taking his hands in your own.

And so he did. He told you everything. How it had started, what she had done. Everything. It made you sick. It made you want to go to the police, but Kyle begged you not to. And after all it was his decision if he wanted to or not, so you respected him in that. 

You held him as he cried weakly, body shivering and weak. You promised at that moment to always protect him. He hadn’t cheated on you, you knew it. Kyle would never. 

He apologized profusely and each time you shushed him, holding him closer as you told him how loved he was. How special he was. And how someday he’d be able to get away from all of this. Live his life. You wanted all that for him and more.

You fed him soup and snuggled up next to him all day per his request. The more warmed up he got and happier he got, his smile came back. Your favorite smile in the world. You poked his dimples, causing him to laugh, which then in turn caused you to laugh too. This was all you wanted, and all Kyle needed. You there next to him, letting him know he was safe with you.

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 09 -> CH 10

"Feeling sexual attraction isn't a crime Jack." "No but I'm pretty sure jerking off while watching the neighbor might be."

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @thatsthewrongwallcraig @icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver @mayathepsychic1999 @ophelialaufey

Jack slept without interruption the entire night. His body had let him relax enough and his mind was fuzzy. He woke up with a slight ache in his throat, assuming he had slept so well that he had snored. It wasn't until he remembered the cum stained pants in the corner that he felt shame wash over his body. He took a shower trying to scrub away the negative thoughts that swirled around in his head, begrudgingly taking his meds and waiting for the opportunity to talk to his doctor.

"Good Morning Jack, how was your-" He barely let him get through pleasantries.

"I think I need to be locked up." Jack practically yelled into the computer.

"Okay...did something happen last night?" Dr. Carty remained calm.

"Yeah and I think I may be a predator or something." Jack shook his head unsure, wringing his hands.

"I'm going to need a lot more than that please." Dr. Carty pressed.

"Last night, I was finally able to jerk off...to completion." Jack explained like he was expecting him to know.

"Was the subject of your infatuation a minor or someone who has a mental disability that leaves them unable to make intellectual decisions?" The doctor seemed almost afraid to receive the answer but Jack scrunched his face.

"What? No. The neighbor was outside changing out of her work clothes late last night." Jack's explanation made the doctor sigh with relief.

"Feeling sexual attraction isn't a crime, Jack." The doctor could tell Jack was still upset.

"No but I'm pretty sure jerking off while watching the neighbor might be." He insisted.

"I mean, it's rude to say the least in terms of consent but you didn't seek her out. You weren't peeping through the windows or leaving spy cameras in the shower stalls. You simply saw an attractive young woman's naked body, who you also seem to have a good repore with." Jack tried to calm his breath listening to the doctors rationalize his actions.

"Jack, if you had a history of predatory behavior, I would be the first person to send someone to pick you up for treatment. You are not a danger to your neighbor. I hope your regrettable actions didn't cause you to be a danger to yourself." Dr. Carty looked him over but Jack voluntarily lifted his arms up to show him that he was unharmed.

"How are you feeling today?" He followed.

"I mean I slept great. I just woke up and realized what I had done last night, started freaking out and this is where I'm at now." Jack ran his hands through his hair frustrated.

"How did you feel last night? I know you had been struggling with the ability to feel sexual inclinations." Jack had mentioned that he had been pent up for over a year now and all the doctor did was make a note of it.

"I mean I was thrilled. I couldn't believe I could actually get hard let alone finish." Jack explained.

"So you think maybe your connection with your neighbor is going well." Jack shook his head.

"I barely know her. I'm just a guy who appreciates a really attractive naked woman." Jack blew it off but the doctor shook his head.

"If that were the case, you wouldn't have had any issues reaching completion in the year prior. You like her, at the very least you feel comfortable enough to use her in a fantasy." Dr. Carty continued to take notes.

"I don't exactly know how I feel about that. I mean doesnt that sound a little shady? I use her to get off without her knowledge." Jack added.

"Feeling safe with someone isn't a bad thing Jack. You could always let her know that you find her sexually attractive and see how that goes." Jack snorted a laugh.

"I don't know that we're living in the same timeframe Doc. If you haven't noticed, we're living in the times where woman don't exactly respond well when you make sexual advances on them out of the blue. The last thing I want to do is get punched in the face by the neighbor who's letting me dogsit for her." Most days, Jack was able to get on board with the doctors recommendations. Today he seemed like he hadn't exactly had his coffee yet to be encouraging him to just tell Y/n he whacked off to her.

"I would hope that you were a bit smoother with your approach than to just make sexual advances on her. She seems to get along with you well and trusts you to a degree to watch over a life she cherishes. You may not realize that but she's already let you into a precious part of her life." Jack hadn't looked at it that way. He glanced back over his shoulder at the pup snuggled down on his bed, silently snoozing away.

"Jack, let me remind you that your delusions from your episode were not real. You never physically hurt anyone, espiecally in a predatorily sexual manner. You are not a danger to her or anyone else you choose to have relations with. You are capable of knowing when to reach out for help in the instant you feel something changing. Give yourself some credit." Dr. Carty's words were genine and Jack felt some relief from them.

"Thanks Doc." Jack cleared his throat, slightly startling Ace from his slumber. He moved from the desk after ending his session and crawled into his bed next to him. Ace moved to lay next to him so he could pet him.

"What do you think? You think Y/n would punch me in the face if I told her she had great tits?" Jack scratched behind Ace's ears and he rolled over onto his back to get belly rubs.

"I don't know if its the massochist in me or the self destructive piece of shit that wishes she would just so I'd feel better." Jack huffed. Ace crawled onto his chest and took up residencey to stare him in the face.

"We can't lay here all day buddy. We need food and at least a walk." Ace perked up and jumped from Jack's chest. If only he could find something in his own life that made him as excited as Ace was for a walk.